


Relentless Forward Progress

by shortystylee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mentions of Past Eating Disorder, Please Don't Hate Me, Sharing a Bed, Time Jump, but not really enemies, lots of emotions here, mention of past Ben/Hux relationship, seriously no one asked for this, the ultrarunning AU that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/pseuds/shortystylee
Summary: Rey’s been trying to get into the Western States 100 race for year, with no luck. So when she sees fellow ultrarunner Ben Solo take a sponsor ticket after years of refusing, she posts a snarky comment back to him that sparks the start of a weird friendship she never saw coming.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A thank you and lots of love to T, who listens to me talk about running and the hours I spend in the woods, and is my person to whom I bounce off fic ideas and headcanons.
> 
> Where to begin with this little plot bunny I had... ultrarunning is basically any footrace (road or trail, though trail is more prevalent), that is longer than a marathon. They typically start at 50k (31 miles) and go up to 100 miles and beyond. 
> 
> Western States is a 100 mile race, that is to ultrarunning what the Boston Marathon is to road racing. It’s very hard to get in: there’s qualifying races to run and a lottery system. You can also get in by placing high enough in certain “Golden Ticket” races, or getting entry from a sponsor company.
> 
> This story is mostly set in Flagstaff, Arizona, where Rey lives. I’ve done a lot of research to make it accurate, since I don’t live there, but there are some things that are changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be posting acronyms and other info along the way. If there is anything confusing that I’ve missed let me know!
> 
> Ages for everyone. I chose not to have a huge age gap between Ben & Rey here.  
> Poe: July 1986  
> Ben/Finn: January/August 1988  
> Rey: June 1990
> 
> USATF: USA Track & Field

For as long as she’s able to remember, Rey loved running. It was her freedom. Her out. A way to burn off steam and forget.

 

Her earliest memory of running - real running, not what little kids do playing tag or during gym class - was maybe late elementary school. The family she’d been placed with was a real piece of work, nothing ever aimed at her or the other kids that stayed there, but the couple would argue, yell, throw things at each other. Every one of the children had different ways of dealing with it. She remembers one of the younger kids who would hide until it was quiet again, another older one who acted out in school, constantly in trouble. 

 

And Rey? She ran. 

 

First, she just went to the end of the block, as far as she was allowed to go. Then to her elementary school - she’d push and push to get there as fast as she could. And one day, she decided to go towards Buffalo Park. A little farther from her home than normal, but nowhere that would land her in trouble if she was found there. A group of runners passed by her on the sidewalk, going into the park just before her, and she followed them - they're faster, by a lot - but she kept them in view and stayed behind for their run on the two mile hiking path, stopping when the path returned to the trailhead and they ran off to someplace else. All she’s left with were tired legs, a burning in her lungs, and an inexplicable pull to turn around and run back on the trail once more. It’s a relatively flat trail but mountains rise up around her, and with the city mostly blocked from her view, she felt like she was out in the middle of nowhere. 

 

That scene in Forrest Gump, where Jenny prays to god to make her a bird so she could fly far, far away?

 

_ That _ was what running was for Rey.

 

_ Flying _ .

 

Flying up trails of hard-packed sand and rock, sun blazing down on her shoulders and lighting up the red rocks surrounding her. Two long French braids swaying rhythmically behind her as she descends, the city of Flagstaff growing larger and larger in front of her. The landscape - trails of rock, boulders jutting up off to the side, ponderosa pines and aspens - was rough and rugged, like you’d expect from the southwest, and then suddenly you’d pop out of the woods into a field of wildflowers. 

 

And one day, years later on a weekend in middle school, someone else noticed her. No one ever cared where she went off to for hours, certainly not the foster family she was staying with this time. She was on her regular ten mile loop on the northwest side of town and ran into her US history teacher, who was also the cross country coach at Sinagua Middle School, and his wife, who taught and coached at Coconino High School. She caught up with them, not recognizing who they were from behind as she passed them, until they met up with her later as she stopped for a breather at a picnic table near the parking lot at the trailhead.

 

“Rey? Rey Jackson, is that you?”

 

“Oh, yea, good morning, Mr. Harper,” she greeted, hand across her forehead in an attempt to shade herself from the sun. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you before, I kinda get in the zone sometimes.”

 

“Believe me, I know how that is,” he replied. They joined her at the table, him opposite Rey and her on the same side. “Listen, I’m gonna get right to the point. Do you have any idea what type of pace you were keeping out there?”

 

“Um, no… I don’t have a watch or anything, I just… go. What time is it right now? I think I got here around nine and did the ten mile loop.”

 

Mrs. Harper looked down at her watch and held her arm out across the table, showing the current time to her husband across the table before she chimed in, “It’s only twenty after ten.”

 

His eyebrows furrowed as he does the math. “That’s an eight minute pace.”

 

Rey looked down at her hands in her lap, and then back up at him. “...Is that good?”

 

“For ten miles on this terrain and elevation? Very.” He paused, like he’s at a loss for words. Rey noticed that his wife had started looking her over - oversized cotton t-shirt that’d belonged to one of the older kids before her, ratty gym shorts tied as tight as the drawstring allows, and white off-brand Keds stained red from the dust.

 

“Sweetheart, how does some breakfast sound?” Rey instantly forgot about the scrutiny, her eyes lighting up at the mention of food.

 

They took her to Maz’s, a breakfast joint she’s passed hundreds of times, and she answered all their questions as she shoveled blueberry pancakes into her mouth.

 

_ I just run because I like it. _

 

_ What? A coach? No, no. I don’t train with anyone else. _

 

_ No one taught me. It’s just running… one foot in front of the other. I’ve been doing it all my life. _

 

_ Yea, I can definitely run faster than that, especially if it was flatter. _

 

_ Have I thought about running cross country? You mean like at school? There’s no way we… I could afford — _

 

That’s how Rey learned the school district has a fund so that low income students can have fees waived so they can participate in school sports and clubs. She supposed there’s no reason not to join then, since she definitely qualified and would welcome the extra time outside the house, maybe even find some people her own age with similar interests, so she smiled at Mr. Harper and asked when she should show up for practice.

 

“You won’t be going to my practices, Rey.”

 

“But you said —”

 

“You’ll be running for me,” Mrs. Harper said, as if  _ of course _ she would.

 

That’s how Rey found herself on the high school varsity cross country team, as an eighth grader.

 

XxXxX

 

For as long as he’s able to remember, running was part of Ben’s life, in some way, shape, or form. Some of his earliest memories involve the sport - watching his mother and father run their track workouts, cheering in the grandstands with his uncle, getting scolded for playing in the sand at the end of the long jump.

 

There’s a picture of him, not much older than three years old, being held on his mom’s hip, as the governor of Massachusetts placed a golden crown of olive branches on her head and she waved at the crowd. It made the front page of the New York Times sports section, and he’s willing to bet his mother still has the same framed newspaper page up in the den.

 

Four years before he was born, Leia Organa and Han Solo were America’s Summer Olympic sweethearts. The ‘84 Olympics were in Los Angeles, home turf, and the country loved the story of the all-star track athlete and the women’s marathon winner falling for each other. Add to it that it was first year the women’s marathon was even an event and apparently the media and everyone else ate that shit up with a spoon.

 

Practice and meets had been fun, at first, and stayed that way for long time. Local meets, then statewide, to youth nationals. Through elementary school, he enjoyed the after school practices, mostly for the time afterwards when there were snacks, a team trip to Dairy Queen, or extra time to goof around before his parents came to collect him. It turned into a lot more traveling as he got older, which he loved, taking place of the vacations they didn’t take, unable to plan around his practice and meets. He loved the competition, loved winning - basking in the praise lavished upon him by his parents and coaches, the cheers of his teammates as he’d round the final corner on a 400, strides ahead of the second place boy.

 

By late elementary school, his coaches noticed that his times weren’t progressing the way they would’ve expected as he aged. It quickly became obvious that his skills were better suited towards the longer distances, and much to his father's chagrin, he switched to cross country when he started on the middle school team. 

 

It taught him endurance, the mental aspects of competing in a race that would take seventeen minutes instead of forty seconds, and he enjoyed losing the monotony of the oval track, and gaining the unique trails of local parks and wooded areas just outside the city. 

 

The change to cross country and the appeal of longer races let him have some reprieve, a few more years enjoying the sport. It was short-lived though, once he started on the high school team a three years later. For a long time, Ben had fully understood that his lifestyle and all the training and competitions were not what every other kid spent their time doing. 

 

High school made it all the more obvious, and he started finally seeing everything he missed out on. The other athletes he competed against in non-school organized clubs and events had parents and lives that were similar to his. Sure, there were other people on his high school team that were competitive in the same way he was, but cross country was still a no-cut sport, and both JV and varsity practiced together. The idea that there were people who were so… casual about it, who felt no pressure to win or podium or even finish in the top half baffled him. Even the other runners on varsity with him seemed able to have a life outside of schoolwork and practice.

 

His teammates had social lives, free weekends, and summers not spent at USATF camps. They had girlfriends, boyfriends, best friends - all of which he lacked and coveted. Surrounded by peers with similar interests, he didn’t grow up too socially awkward, and did manage to make some friends on the team. They were all school or during practice or meet friends, no weekends spent loitering at the mall or going downtown to explore. 

 

There was Phasma, a year younger, but a star hurdler from the beginning, and Mitaka, a quiet and reserved boy in his grade, who ran just a tad slower than Ben - his love of data meant he could rattle off all the state and national records in his sleep. 

 

His closest friend on the team was Hux: a middle of the pack runner, all arms and legs and slim waist matching his own, with shocking red hair, long enough to be pushed back by a headband when he raced. It bothered Ben to no end that Hux didn’t push himself, didn’t try just a bit harder. In senior year, he got the story out of Hux one day - how his father desperately wanted him to play football, and since he wasn’t cut out for the sport, his father didn’t really care about much else as long as he got good grades. He joined cross country because running was for fun, something he did for  _ himself _ . 

 

And there it was. 

 

Years had passed since Ben ran for himself, if he ever really had. He’d grown to resent it - its impact on his social life, the tether it had on him, how it went hand-in-hand with his sense of self worth. 

 

He couldn’t let it get to him, couldn’t quit. After all, it was far from over, he’d start to run for the University of Washington in the fall. 

 

XxXxX

 

She showed up on Monday after school at Coconino, in what she considered her normal running clothes, if she had to choose something, and was quickly scooped up by Coach Harper. She greeted Rey, then pushed a brand new shoebox into her hands.

 

“Go ahead, open it.”

 

Rey inspected the box - the inov-8 logo, the model of shoe, and the price tag that read ninety dollars. She tried not to pale at that, there’s nothing she owned worth that much money.

 

“I can’t --”

 

“No, you stop right there. These shoes are an investment I am making in one of my athletes, one in which I see a great deal of potential. Your days of running in store-brand Keds are over.”

 

“What about the sizing?”

 

“I noticed we had about the same size feet when I was sitting next to you at breakfast… and since you’d been running in shoes with zero arch support and zero drop with, I’m assuming, no issues, I figured I’d get you a show that’s a bit more minimal than most.” Rey nodded her head, pretending to understand things like minimal shoes and zero drop.

 

_ Oh, this. This is good. _ When she laced them up, her ankle felt more stable, and she imagined how much easier it will be to fly down the hills at Elden Lookout.

 

It was on the first day of practice that Rey met Finn, her first real friend. The type of friend who isn’t just a school friend - not at all in this case, since he’s a sophomore - but the type you click with instantly, that you tell things, the one you find yourself making excuses and plans so you can spend more time with them.

 

After practice that first day, Rey sat on the grass by herself, stretching her legs out as she’d been instructed by the coach, and she suddenly found herself in a shadow. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun, and saw a boy, wearing a Coconino T-shirt and Adidas track pants over his shorts. The boys and girls teams competed separately, but held all their practices at the same time.

 

“First day on the team?”

 

“Yea… it’s a lot to get used to,” Rey replied. Shit, even  _ stretching _ is something to get used to for her.

 

“Did you just transfer?”

 

“No, I go to Sinagua.”

 

“Well, yea, I went to Sinagua too.”

 

“I go to Sinagua  _ now _ ,” she explained. Somehow it hadn’t come up yet, but Coach Harper kept her pretty occupied during practice. “I’m an eighth grader.”

 

“Oh, shit. You’re Rey? My mom told me all about you.” She can’t see herself, but she knew she must have a look on her face that perfectly displayed exactly how confused she was in that moment. “Alright, let’s back up a bit.” He joined her on the grass, sitting cross-legged across from her. “Hey, I’m Finn Harper. My mom coaches the cross country teams at Coconino.”

 

“I’m Rey Jackson. Your mom thinks I’m good enough for varsity.”

 

“If that’s what she thinks, then I’m sure you are.”

 

As it turned out, she was good enough. Finn and his mother were saints, teaching her the ins and outs of practice and how the teams were run, helping to get her set up with proper clothes for practice, and introducing her to other teammates. She quickly became a fixture at their dinner table for Saturday’s weekly burger nights and Sunday’s nicer meals. 

 

Ninth grade brought her to Coconino with the rest of the team, Finn most importantly.  _ Thick as thieves, _ was what his mother said. It was Finn’s junior year, and after their Saturday morning practices, he started dragging her along on the city bus with him to Northern Arizona University to hang out with his friend Poe, a freshman who’d just graduated from Coconino. He’d been on the track team, a sprinter, and the way Finn blushed and got flustered easily in his presence told Rey everything she needed to know.

 

She began to spend more and more time at Finn’s house, or just with him, usually out running the trails in Buffalo Park or the national forest. 

 

A month or so into her sophomore year, his senior year, Finn finally got his license, after a couple tries, and he bought an old Jeep Wrangler from his uncle. For their first big excursion, he took her for a drive, way outside of town: her first trip to the Grand Canyon, despite living in a city that calls itself the gateway to it. On an unusually hot, crowded Saturday, they hiked Bright Angel trail down to the river, sat in the shade outside of Phantom Ranch and drank lemonade, and climbed back out on the Kaibab trail. They watched the sunset, standing on the driver and passenger seats, up and out of the open top of his car and leaned over onto the roof, in awe at the changing sky and the colors that lit up the canyon. 

 

“Do you think you’d still want a family to adopt you, even though you’ll age out in two years?”

 

They’d never shied away from sensitive topics, but she’s a little taken aback by the sudden question with no preamble. 

 

“Not  _ this  _ particular family,” she answered, knowing full well Finn understood. They weren’t awful, but they just didn’t seem to ever see Rey as anything more than an afterthought, and she knew they had zero intention of adopting her and being around as a support system once she aged out. “Chances are pretty slim that someone is gonna up and decide they want a teenager. People want 16 month olds, not 16 year olds.”

 

“But what if a family  _ did  _ want you?”

 

“What are you getting at?” 

 

“Mom’s been talking with the department of child safety and a lawyer and…” He kept talking, on and on, but Rey couldn’t keep focused on anything, not as what he’s saying slowly crept into her brain and started to make sense. “... case worker said it’d be best to get your feelings on it first, since you’re old enough that they need your agreement. Rey? Are you listening?”

 

“Your... your mom wants to adopt me?”

 

“Yea,” Finn answered, like it should’ve been obvious. “And my dad. And me, of course.”

 

Her immediate answer came in the form of smothering Finn in a bear hug, remembering she can’t jump up and own with him like she wanted, since they’re standing on the car seats. 

 

After a moment, she dropped down, flopping on to the seat, and that’s when the tears started, so many tears. He joined her, leaning over to make sure she’s okay. As she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, she got out the words,  _ I’m amazing, these are happy tears, ecstatic tears. _

 

“Come on,” Finn said, turning the car back on and pulling away from the lookout point. “Let’s go home so we can tell mom and dad the good news.”

 

XxXxX

 

In this environment, Rey flourished. The adoption process didn’t take long, not with all the work that had been done by Reg and Trish behind the scenes already. It’s weird for her to call them mom and dad, having never had someone to actually call that, but they were fine with being called by their first names, and Rey made sure to still call Trish ‘Coach Harper’ during team activities or at school. 

 

She won meets, performed well at practice, and did extra work with other teammates. Her junior year she was made team captain, then beat the school’s 5k record, helping her team get to the state championships. Part of what she liked the most was practicing with the middle and back of the pack runners, helping find some strategy that worked for them, and always staying by the finish line until every single one of her team had finished.

 

By the end of her junior year, universities had come around scouting at larger meets, but Rey thought nothing of them. Uninterested in leaving town, she applied to Northern Arizona University, the same as Finn and Poe. 

 

She got accepted, which wasn’t as surprising as the full-ride cross country scholarship that came along with it. Her senior year she’s still captain, still making visits every Sunday to see Finn, who lives with Poe, now his boyfriend. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders; she’d grown up never imagining she’d go to university, let alone for free. 

 

Sure, she’d had some lucky breaks in life, but Rey knew she wouldn’t have gotten any of it without her own ability. She prided herself on her persistence and discipline, on knowing that if she tried hard enough, that the ability to be great was in her reach. Through just a handful of years running on an organized team, Rey discovered she loved the sport, loved helping other teammates, so when she chose to declare her major as a teaching degree in physical education no one was surprised. 

 

She would get to continue running, start learning how to do something she’s passionate about, and get to live off-campus with Finn and Poe. Everything she did, she did for herself, and she couldn’t wait to get started.


	2. An Announcement, An Invitation, An Unintended Rapport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few explanations...
> 
> Ultrasignup: a website used to sign up for races, it also tracks participants and gives a ranking percentage based on race placement  
> Ginger Runner: a real person IRL, who does vlogs and race reports, in this case, it's Hux  
> Coneja: Spanish for bunny  
> Rim to rim: running from one rim of the Grand Canyon to the other  
> FKT: fastest known time. usually refers to the fastest time on a trail that is not during a race  
> WS: western states abbreviation

November, 2017

It’s a slow Saturday morning at Seven Wonders Running Company. Despite having a full-time job at her old high school, teaching gym and coaching the cross country teams, Rey still helps out at the running store. Nine years ago, when Poe first opened the store, she’d spent most of her free time helping out, but now that Finn is there full time and they’ve hired some local university kids, she usually only works one weekend morning shift each week, in addition to taking care of the midweek group runs and seminars that don't interfere with her coaching after school. Her first year out of university, she taught phys ed at the middle school, then moved up to the high school once Reg and Trish retired and moved down to Sedona. 

At the moment, Poe is out leading the weekly Saturday morning group run, and she doesn’t expect even the fastest people back at the store for another half hour or so. A new shipment of track spikes arrived with the early AM FedEx drop, and Finn took the boxes back to the inventory room to organize them. Bored, she pulls her phone out and starts to thumb through apps, settling on Instagram after seeing no updates on Facebook since she last checked. Her feed is made up of some friends from high school and university, various running stores or gear companies, and the other ultramarathon runners that she follows. It’s a hobby that’s expanded and taken over her life outside of teaching and coaching, and one that she blames Finn and Poe for introducing her to. 

During university, she’d caught the marathon bug, starting to focus on the longer distances when cross country was out of season. In September 2012, she ran the Flagstaff Marathon. It’d been perfect - a hometown race in Buffalo Park, where she’d basically taught herself to trail run. Afterwards, the post-race blues hit harder than they had for past races, and she found herself wondering what was supposed to come next. A week later, Poe and Finn showed her the website for the Mesquite Canyon 50k, and after a few minutes of thinking, she was all signed up. 

For the next six months, she trained as best she could, forgoing sleep and the small bit of social life she had, or convincing friends to come with her on shorter training runs. It wasn’t a stellar finish, not like she was used to in cross country or even some longer races, but as soon as she crossed that finish line, she was hooked. Before they put a medal around her neck, before she collapsed into a folding camp chair and Poe peeled off her socks, before Finn handed her a beer from the beer tent, she was hooked. 

Rey almost misses the Instagram post as she swipes through, but it manages to catch her eye. It’s a professional promo shot of another ultrarunner, Ben Solo; he’s wearing a First Order branded t-shirt and holding up a piece of paper with a picture on it.

It’s the logo for Western States.

**running_solo** Excited to announce that I’ll be making my @wser debut this year, all thanks to a sponsor ticket from @firstorderperformance See you at Squaw!

She doesn’t  _ just  _ follow him, she’s well aware of who he is, like everyone else in their small community is. The only child of two legends, his mother was the first woman to win the marathon at the Olympics, for chrissakes. He’d been an excellent young star in his own right, breaking youth, junior, and national track and field records. Rey wasn’t quite sure what happened, but knew he ran cross country in college and then… disappeared, sort of, popping up a year and a half later on the ultrarunning scene - only to make the same waves there as he had in the short and middle distances.

She knows his race stats on ultrasignup better than she’d like to admit, has read the interviews with him online and in the ultra and trail running magazines that Poe subscribes to at the store. She's even listened to his podcast talks with Ginger Runner. Rey follows him on Instagram and Strava, and knows that he’s qualified for Western States for years and never put his name in the lottery drawing. Shit, he’s even won Golden Ticket races and declined the goddamn invitation. 

“Finn!” she yells across the store. A moment later he pops out of the storeroom.

“What’s up, coneja?”

“Guess who is finally going to grace Western States with their presence?”

“Unless you’ve somehow managed a Golden Ticket between when I went in the storeroom and now then--”

“Ben. Solo.”

He gapes at her. “Shut the front door.”

“I know! But look—” She tosses her phone across the counter then walks around, going up on her tiptoes to look over his shoulder as he looks at the post. “He put it up on Insta a half hour ago.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. He’ll probably ace it, like every other race he does.”

Rey snorts at the idea of that. “Doubt it. You’ve seen his ultrasignup profile?” 

He nods and rolls his eyes. “Yea, don't remind me.”

“Did you look beyond the stellar percent? He has practically no hot weather races. The heat in those canyons is gonna wreck him.”

Finn closes the app and passes the phone back to Rey with a shrug. “Maybe you should be a good sport and give him a heads up,” he replies, leaning up against the counter.

“Who knows, Maybe I’ll invite him to Flagstaff to do a rim to rim training run with me.”

They pause, silent for a second, and matching smiles grow on their faces before they burst out laughing. Rey is on the verge of tears when Poe gets back from the group run, and neither of them hear the bells ringing on the front door.

He stops a few feet from them, arms crossed. “Glad to see you two are having a fun morning.”

“Rey’s gonna invite Ben Solo to run the canyon with her!”

“What? Get back to work you two.”

The pair glance at each other before Rey blurts out, “Yes, Mr. Dameron.” It sends Finn into another fit of laughter and Rey slumps down to the floor against the front display case, trying to avoid the looks she's getting from Poe when he's in manager mode. 

“Children,” Poe says, shaking his head. “I work with children.”

XxXxX

Even though the weather is much more cool this time of the year, Rey still plans her run for the evening: a long one, planned specifically to not finish until well after dark. When it’s light out, it’s easy enough for her to keep her thoughts from going too far back in her mind - she gets distracted by unusual shaped rocks and animals, and has to alert enough to notice the occasional mountain biker. It’s even easier when it's dusk, the sun setting over the mountains grabs her attention and she starts to focus more on the trail, beginning to think about when it’s time to put on her headlamp.

Ever since she checked Instagram that morning, she’s had Ben Solo on her mind. Rey had been hoping getting a few handfuls of mile in and some time in the mountains would shake him off, but all it does is make her start imagining him on his long run - the lush green forest surrounding him, ferns growing on the forest floor, humidity hanging in the air, the smell of pine needles floating up with each foot fall.

_ Oh, god, if Finn knew how much time I spent thinking about Ben Solo today, he’d probably think I have a crush on him. _

“No, I don’t,” she says aloud, to no one except the darkness. 

If anything, she has a crush on his Cascade Crest sub-19 hour time, or his Mt. Rainier FKT, or the fact that he probably gets all his gear handed to him by sponsors.  _ Or that where he’s running doesn’t have scorpions or rattlers. _

It doesn’t help anything, he’s stuck in her head now. Everything from that picture of him, his Pantene Pro-V commercial hair to the smug smile on his face. His voice on the Ginger Runner podcast she listened to months ago: deep, confident, telling Armitage Hux he’s certain he’ll podium at the Georgia Death Race.  _ And he did, the bastard. _

She’s not sure why she does it. When she gets back to her pickup at 1am, the first thing she does is open up Instagram, go under his name and back to that latest post. Rey doesn’t break into the bag of snacks she’s brought or change out of her trail shoes and into her sandals. Maybe she’s bonking. Or maybe she’s on a delirious runner’s high, rational thinking left somewhere out on the single track.

Whatever it is, she types a comment out that sounds smart and sassy in her head at the time, hits post, and starts to get her stuff ready for the drive home.

XxXxX

Ben gets a lot of comments on his posts, rarely replying to any unless it's someone he knows in real life or a comment or question he finds actually unique or thoughtful.

In the deluge of congratulatory comments on his latest post about accepting the sponsored Western States ticket from First Order, there’s a single comment that stands out amongst the rest.

**ultrarunner_reyrey** better make sure you get some heat training in or else the heat down in the canyons is gonna kick your PNW butt

_ Who the hell is this girl? _ Her username is familiar, for some reason, but he doesn’t think he’s ever met her. The comment has him… intrigued, he guesses. Her username gives the impression she may know something about what she’s talking about, and rarely do people give him advice, whether it’s as snark-filled as this is or not. It’s halfway to trolling but still helpful. He’s having issues wrapping his head around it, so he clicks on her profile.

**ultrarunner_reyrey**

Rey Jackson, Flagstaff AZ. PE teacher/CC coach, shoe slinger, ultrarunner.

He takes another glance at her name and searches for it on Strava, finding her easily enough and seeing an average of fifty to sixty miles a week for the past month or two, then opens another window to search on ultrasignup.

There’s races listed dating back to 2013, her first ultra: Mesquite Canyon. Her percentage is… pretty good, actually, which is not what he’d expected. It’s not as high as his is, but it’s much better than your casual weekend warrior. As he scrolls through, he sees increasingly longer distances, improving times, and the fact that she doesn’t shy away from the tough races - it almost looks like those are what she wants. There’s some age group wins, an overall female win at a 50k that must be local since he doesn’t recognize it, and a surprising number of top ten finishes in well-known races: Speedgoat, Angeles Crest, and —

“Holy shit, fifth at Leadville? How have I not heard of you?” That seals it, he’s definitely sending her a message.  _ Now _ . 

Ben: I saw your comment. 

Ben: Do you know me?

It’s after midnight, even later in Flagstaff, so he doesn’t expect a reply, but within thirty seconds she answers. 

Rey: You’re Ben Solo. Everyone knows who you are

Ben: You know what I mean. Have we met before?

Rey: Nope 

Ben: Then what’s up with the comment?

Rey: Just some friendly advice. You don’t seem to do many races south of the Bay Area. Might be good to get some heat training in if you wanna do well at WS.

Ben: And I suppose you know all about that?

Rey: I do. Lived in Flagstaff my whole life, I know a thing or two about being hot. 

Rey: Shit. 

Rey: I meant, I know about hot weather. Temperatures. 

Ben: I’m sure that’s what you meant. 

Rey: Oh, shut up. I’m serious though. Come on down and visit. Anytime. I’ll take you out to the Grand Canyon for a R2R.

Ben: hmm, enticing offer. I’m still gonna pass. 

That’s the end of the conversation, all he needs to say. With twelve miles planned for 7am, he should stop and get to bed. He sends another message anyways. 

Ben: what’re you doing up so late, anyways? I thought us ultrarunners supposed to value our sleep.

Rey: I could say the same to you

Rey: had a shift at work this morning, so tonight was my long run. I’m doing another ten in the morning, leading my running store’s group run

Ben: back to backs? You training for a race?

Rey: Valley of Fire 50k, two weekends from now. And just keeping up my base mileage in case I get into WS this year

Ben: What race did you use to qualify?

From looking at her profile, he already knows it was Leadville, but he risks coming off like a creep if he lets her know he’s done ten minutes of frantic Google searching to learn about her.

Rey: Leadville. Had to get in through a charity though, seems lotteries are never in my favor. 

Ben: better watch out, don’t jinx yourself for WS

Rey: I know, right?? but hey, I gotta get going. Can’t sit in my truck at the trail forever, not when I have to be at the store at 8.

Rey: remember though. Arizona. Grand Canyon. Anytime you want, Ben Solo. 

XxXxX

The next morning, Ben wakes up and he’s groggy as fuck from his delayed bedtime. He manages to get in a cup of coffee and some peanut butter toast on his drive to the trailhead. The run turns out better than he expected; the trail clearing his mind and helping to shove out the drowsiness. 

When he’s back at the trailhead and able to pick up signal, a notification from Instagram pops up - Rey’s sent him a message.

Rey: 10 miles done and it’s time for pancakes!

There’s a picture below the message, a selfie of her with a background unlike any he’s used to. The morning sunlight against her tan skin makes her almost glow. Her hair is in braids that hang over her shoulders, tied with purple hair ties that match her hydration pack, which must be necessary in that weather. There’s a sheen of sweat across her forehead, just under the earth toned mesh hat that reads Seven Wonders Running Company, the text in a semicircle over a stylized sunset. She’s flashing a wide toothy smile at the camera. 

Below it, another picture - a plate with a stack of blueberry pancakes. 

Ben can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something about her that makes him want to continue the conversation. It makes him want to tell her about his run - about the group of deer he saw walk through the parking lot, the possum that scared the shit out of him - and also find out more about hers. 

So he does. He continues the conversation, tells her about the deer and the possum, sends her the few pictures he snapped on the trail and one of his to-go breakfast from the hot bar at the food co-op. They spend the day going back and forth, from comparing pacing and elevation from their runs that morning, to what shoes she prefers. 

By the end of the day, he begins to wonder what exactly is going on. Less than 24 hours ago, he’d never heard of her, and now she’s sending him pictures of breakfast food.

They’re… Internet friends. 

Yea, that. He can handle that. 


	3. Losses and Last Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not many notes to make, but some more info on the Golden Ticket races. There's a handful of them across the US, and automatic "golden tickets" for entry to Western States are given to the top 2 men and women at each one. If one of those four is already in or cannot accept, it falls to 3rd place, and keeps going, but no lower than 5th place.

**December, 2017**

The yearly trek out to Auburn, California was starting to be an annual event. Three years in a row, her, Finn, and Poe drove the fourteen hours from Flagstaff to Auburn to be there in person for the Western States lottery drawing.

Three years in a row, her name is not chosen.

“It’s gonna happen this year, guys,” Rey declares, her voice confident, as she throws a duffel bag of clothes and her running gear in the back of Poe’s Land Rover Defender. She climbs in the backseat and gets comfy. The trunk is filled with their things and there’s a cooler back there too, but she’s got the backseat all to herself. “I can feel it. I’ve got like eight tickets in the lottery by now.”

This year, her qualifying race was Leadville 100, through a charity slot. In the past it’s been Run Rabbit Run, Hardrock, and Zion - all tough races, all hundred milers. There’s no doubt in her mind she can do it, if chosen.

Rey tries to get as much sleep on the ride as possible, since, as per tradition, the evening they arrive, Poe drops her and Finn off at the trail at the Green Gate entrance and they take the race course route from what would be just shy of the 80 mile marker to the end. “This is the best you’ll ever feel at this point in the race,” Finn jokes as they start.

“And,” Rey adds, “We’re dry, unlike this point in the real deal,” referring to not being able to do the river crossing at Rucky Chucky a few miles back. The current of the American River is quick, which makes it dangerous to cross not during the race - they string a rope across to hang on to for race day, and in high water years there’s a boat to take runners to the other side. 

When they get to the Placer High School track, Poe’s there, waving a flag of Arizona and cheering like they’re really finishing. She crosses the imaginary finish line with her arms up overhead, hand laced together with Finn’s. They gather hugs from Poe, but no belt buckles. Their run was only twenty miles, and only took about three hours, not sixteen or seventeen.

Afterwards, they grab waffle cones at Samantha’s Ice Cream Parlor and head back to the Best Western for some sleep before tomorrow morning’s lottery.

There’s a single Instagram DM on her phone when she checks it before bed, and it’s from Ben. 

_ Tomorrow, 8am, I’ll be rooting for you.  _

She likes that thought - that he’ll be watching, that he’s on her side. Outwardly, she’s confident, but she needs all the positive thoughts she can get for tomorrow. 

It’s been just over three weeks since she made that one offhand Instagram comment that somehow started an odd support system for the two of them. Their lives are pretty different, not just the environments they run in, but their lives in general. Ben has a number of sponsors, which were non-existent in Rey’s case, save for the running store employee discount, and she knows they were raised very differently. In addition to remote coaching a number of runners, he did work a day job, from home mostly, a marketing position for one of the larger outdoor speciality stores. Rey understood that she’s lucky to be able to room with Finn and Poe - her teacher’s salary, even with the extra pay she gets for coaching, would not get her very far. 

She found herself actually looking forward to her and Ben’s increasingly regular chats. Oh, he was still a grump sometimes, or full of sarcasm, especially when she brought up the invite to Flagstaff. Rey wasn’t sure anymore if she’s serious or joking, but she still makes the offer every so often, usually when he mentions running in the rain or highs in the mid 50s. 

The next morning, for three hours, the group sits on the uncomfortable theater chairs in the Placer High School auditorium, with a couple hundred other runners, their friends and family, and some media from various running and outdoors magazines. Rey’s left hand has a death grip around a venti americano and her right knee bounces unconsciously, so much so that’s every so often Poe will reach over and press down on it. To say she’s nervous is an understatement.

Names get called off, some she doesn’t know, some she does - those she does know she types into her phone to make sure she congratulates afterwards. She gets excited, clapping and cheering, when they call out Rose Tico’s name, her friend she made running the Tahoe Rim 50 Miler a few years back, who she paced for at last year’s Western States. Getting picked in the lottery two years in a row has some ridiculous odds stacked against it, and if Rose was someone else and not her friend, she hates to think it, but she’d be not nearly as happy for their luck. When Rose comes down the center aisle to her seat, she gets a hug from Rey. “I’d say I’d pace you again, but I’m gonna be doing it for real this time,” she tells her.

The hours drag by, and more names are called. She swipes her phone awake, pulling up the last message from Ben again.  _ Tomorrow, 8am, I’ll be rooting for you.  _

In the end, 274 names are drawn from the lottery tumbler, and for the fourth year in a row, hers is not amongst them.

Her cell phone’s data coverage slips in and out as they make their way back to Flagstaff, but she has enough before they leave Auburn to make an Instagram post about the day. She puts up the picture she took with Rose after the lottery finished, along with the one of her and Finn “finishing” the race the night before.

**ultrarunner_reyrey** Disappointed to not get picked in this year’s @wser lottery, but that’s the way it goes. So happy for all my friends who made it - especially @rose_runs_tahoe for her second year in a row! #wser #wser100 #wserlottery #alwaysabridesmaidneverabride

XxXxX

Ben’s name isn’t called, of course, but he’s at the lottery all the same. He sits in the back corner, out of the way, but his height lets him see everything happening.

About mid-way through, a name is called, one he doesn’t recognize. What does get his attention is one lone person’s excited cheering and clapping, and he looks up from his phone to see Rey. She’s in the middle of the auditorium, and has jumped to her feet.

“Yea, Rose! Get it, girl!” The young woman, who he assumes must be Rose, blushing under her friend’s attention, makes her way back from the stage down the center aisle, to be engulfed in a bear hug by Rey, rocking back and forth with her. He can’t hear what she’s saying to her, but there’s a cheeky smile on Rey’s face as she congratulates her friend.

It brings him back to last night, at the track. He had his own traditions and training plan to follow, and Friday found him on the Placer high track, running 800s. He’d finished his workout and was almost off the track when he saw another person enter from the opposite side, a man dressed in street clothes with a large flag in his hands. Interested, Ben stopped and watched, standing off to the side of the bleachers and out of his line of sight. He felt a little like an idiot, creeping in the shadows on the side of the bleachers. 

A few minutes later, two people emerged onto the track, through the same opening in the fence that the racers will come through in a few months. 

_ It’s her. _

He’d recognize those braids and that hydration pack and that beaming smile anywhere. Especially since he gets, on average, four selfies a week from her. 

When he realized what her and her friend were doing, it felt like he’d ran into a brick wall. Maybe not quite that, but seeing her there, celebrating a fake victory of the real victory he knew she wanted so badly, and looking just as excited and glorious as she would if it was real… he knew this moment wasn’t his to watch but he couldn’t drag himself away. 

Ben watches as they embrace, the first person he saw holding up a flag - he thinks it’s Arizona, that’d make the most sense. She jumps in celebration, fist up in the air, yelling out her victory, and hugging her friends.

Himself, he doesn’t give a shit about this race, not really. Sure, he understands the importance  of it in their little community and the history behind it, but it’s siren song never caught him. He wants her to have it, all of it. Ben knows there’s no real way for him to sway the lottery, but if she gets in, he decides he’ll be whatever help she needs to get to that same spot again on the track in June.

XxXxX

They stop in Bakersfield around dinner time, their last stop in a good-sized town before getting on Interstate 40 and heading into the Mojave Desert. The guys tell her to stay put as they pick up food from In-N-Out Burger and then frappuccinos from the Starbucks across the street. She’s fine with that, knowing they’re trying their best to be extra nice to her after her loss in the lottery. Even this has turned into tradition. 

The lines must be long and so she gets her phone out, immediately noticing the little red notification pop-ups on Facebook. Her Instagram posts go to Facebook automatically, and she assumes it’s going to be a slew of uplifting messages or memes to try to make her feel better. She’s correct, but that’s not the end of it. 

There’s a friend request, from Ben Solo, of all people. For a second, she thinks it’s Finn trying to be cute, suggesting she like his public page. Finn knows she’s been chatting with him a bit, and has started to give her some friendly ribbing for it…  _ if only he knew exactly how much we really talk. _

When she clicks on it, she quickly realizes it is not Finn messing with her - it’s a real friend request from his real Facebook page. Rey used to have a rule that she only accepted in real life friends, but once she started getting more and more into the running and ultrarunning community, so much was online that it didn’t really make much sense anymore.  _ Oh, what the hell _ , she thinks,  _ we’re friends… ish. _

Maybe a minute passes from when she hits accept until she gets an alert from Messenger.

Ben: You probably don’t want it brought up yet, but I’m sorry about the way the lottery turned out today

Rey: You were watching?

Rey: and thank you. I’ll be fine though, kinda getting used to it by now

Ben: I've watched the lottery every year since I started running ultras

He asks about the drive back home next, and she’s grateful he changes the subject. She’ll have enough opportunity to explain her lottery loss at the running store and next Monday in the teacher’s lounge, and she’s glad Ben recognizes her need for some distraction at the moment. Between messages, she’s deep-diving through his profile.  _ Rey, creeper extraordinaire _ , one side of her declares, while other side replies,  _ pfft, if he didn’t want people to read it, he shouldn't have it in his profile _ . She decides she likes that reasoning much better.

**Education**

University of Washington, 2006-2008

Western Washington University 2009-2011, BA Marketing

**Places He’s Lived**

Current City: Bellingham, Washington

Hometown: Seattle, Washington

**Basic Information**

Birthday: January 3, 1988

Interested in: Men and Women

She learns he likes a number of small coffee roasters in northwest Washington, The Avett Brothers, Tom Hiddleston, and an oddly high number of Canadian hockey teams.  _ Click on what you really want, Rey. _ So she does, going directly to the  _ view all photos _ page. There’s not as many as she has, which means he probably has a normal amount. There’s some promo pictures uploaded, some that she’s seen already on his Instagram, but one sticks out to her. It’s not his upload, instead it’s from someone name Gwen Phasma, with a #throwbackthursday hashtag on it. It’s obvious immediately which one is Ben, the skinny boy in the middle. He’s in a high school running singlet with the school logo across the chest, his hair in an unfortunate haircut, sitting on the grass between two friends - a blonde girl taller and more muscular than him, who she assume is the Gwen person who uploaded it, and a redhead with Ben’s arm around his shoulders, whose hair is back in a headband, wearing a matching school singlet. There’s smiles on each of them, a mouth full of braces on Ben, and they’re holding up a variety of medals for the camera. She smiles, wondering if Ben’s in Washington finding the almost identical picture of her and Finn on her page. 

When Finn and Poe arrive back at the car, arms full of fast food and fancy coffee drinks, Rey’s still furiously typing out messages with Ben. 

Rey: Oh, hell yes. My food’s here.

Ben: What’d you get?

Rey: In N Out burger and Starbucks. Double double, fries, and a caramel frappuccino. Extra caramel. 

She holds her phone out and takes a selfie with her Frappuccino. Normally, it’d get posted to her Instagram story, maybe with a cute sticker and a comment about how Finn and Poe know how to treat a lady. Instead, she sends it to Ben. They chat for a little while longer, about nothing in particular, until she sends him a warning that they’re going into the desert and her data is going to go away.

They arrive back to Flagstaff around one in the morning and for some reason, she's wired. She only slept a little bit in the car, and she can't get her mind off her messages with Ben from a few hours ago. She hates to admit it, but she's read them multiple times over, telling Finn she's playing Two Dots or looking at her training plan when he asks what she's doing on her phone with no data.

_ Oh, just casually rereading a conversation with Ben Solo. We're Facebook friends now and he’s oddly nice to me and actually quite attractive and -- _

“Fuck this,” she says under her breath, quietly so she doesn’t wake up Finn or Poe. She rolls over in bed and grabs her laptop off her bedside table. Once downstairs, she pulls on a Northern Arizona University hoodie she must’ve left out the other day and takes a beer from the fridge, one that Poe keeps stocked from Dark Sky brewery downtown. Rey heads out to the backyard, flips on the strings of lights hung on the pergola, and gets comfy on the porch swing. 

She opens the lid of her laptop, sending a Facebook message to Ben before she can hesitate and lose her nerve. 

Rey: you awake still? 

There’s a one hour time difference, making it midnight for him, and she’s really hoping she doesn’t wake him up, but then—

Ben: yea. What’s going on? You ok?

She types out her next message and erases it three times before she sends it. 

Rey: can I call you? 

Rey: like Skype or something

She watches the little dots bounce for what seems like forever and she’s almost ready to tell him to forget about it when he replies. 

Ben: sure, one sec. 

The Skype window pops and she’s almost surprised when he appears, hours and hours away but closer than he’s ever been. He’s sitting up in bed, it seems, by the way there’s pillows propped up behind him. 

“Rey… is everything alright?”

She reaches out of frame of the camera, grabs her beer, and takes a quick drink. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Everything is not  _ alright _ . I’m fucking pissed, and I dunno, I just had this urge to talk to you. Like you’d know something about it.”

“You wanna vent?” She nods. “I’m here.”

She goes right on into it. 

“Four years now and I haven’t been picked. All my free time spent to pick my qualifier and train and make it under the time cap and then… its all for nothing. I love this sport and my community, but each time I don’t make it I feel like I’m letting everyone down.” 

“I understand what it’s like to let everyone down, Rey,” he starts, voice somber, but she doesn’t let him continue. 

“Goddammit, Ben,” she snaps back. “You could’ve ran this race eight times over by now, so don’t tell me you understand what it’s like. It’s just… exhausting.” She sniffles and brings a hoodie-covered hand to wipe off whatever tears are threatening to fall. “I try so fucking hard for all of this, and yea, I know it’s a lottery, but it’s draining.”

“I think you’ve forgotten something.” He pauses and she quirks her head to the side and scrunches up her face, like she’s thinking. “There’s still a chance to get in.” 

“There’s like 80 people ahead of me on the waitlist, so unless you’ve got some way to blackmail Altra or Orange Mud to not only sponsor me but give me a ticket, then I don’t see how—”

“Black Canyon.”

Her eyes grow wide at his suggestion, and when he doesn’t say anything else, she bursts out laughing, then slaps her hand over her mouth when she realizes how loud she is.  _ Black Canyon. _ The idea itself is ludicrous.  _ Well, at least I’m not almost crying anymore. _

“Really?  _ That’s  _ your plan? I didn’t know you were a comedian too.”

He shrugs. “A golden ticket is the only way left.”

“That’d be an option if I was you, but I’m not. You know you’ve gotta pretty much win to get one. Fat chance of that.” 

“Come off it. I’ve seen your profile on Ultrasignup--” 

“You checked out my race stats?” Her voice comes out cheekier than she'd meant it to. 

“And,” he continues, “You’re a better runner than you give yourself credit for. Christ, Rey, you took 5th at goddamn Leadville.” Ben sighs and a takes a breath, like he’s trying not to get too worked up. “I know I come off cocky because I give these overconfident statements in interviews and shit, but you need to believe you can do this.” 

She stalls, biting at her lip. “You seriously think I’ve got a shot?”

“I believe in you, but you’ve gotta believe in you. You’re fucked if you don’t.” 

“Alright, hold on a sec,” Rey says. Ben can’t see what she’s doing, can only hear typing and watch as her eyes dart back and forth across the screen. Maybe two minutes later, Rey stops her typing. “...hey Ben, you should probably check your Instagram,” she suggests, a playful smile across her face. 

“Should I?” She nods in response and watches as he reaches off screen and grabs his phone. It’s between his face and the camera, but she can see his eyes and they give him all the reactions she needs to know he’s looking at her latest post - a screenshot of the confirmation page for the Black Canyon race.

**ultrarunner_reyrey** The @wser lottery has not been kind for me, so it’s time for a new strategy - just signed up for Black Canyon 100K and am ready to buckle down and earn myself a Golden Ticket! #wser #goldentickethunting #peerpressure 

“I can’t help but feel a little responsible for that,” he laughs, thinking of the last hashtag she used. “So, really, whatever help you need, I --”

“Are you still taking on clients?” She interrupts him, the words spilling out of her mouth more quickly than she’d thought they would. “I think I’m gonna need a coach.”


	4. A Race, A Realization, An Accepted Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so fair warning, there's some ~allusions~ to a past Ben/Hux relationship that was, ahem, more-than-friendly. Nothing specific, and it definitely (in my mind, at least), wouldn't be considered a pair for this story, just a bit of background about our boy Ben.

**February 2018**

**Black Canyon 100K**

Poe closes the shop at noon on Friday, taping a piece of paper to the front door that matches the picture he’s uploaded on their Facebook page - it’s a picture of Elmer Fudd, with _Closed until Sunday - We’re hunting for a Golden Ticket!_ , typed out below it. At the very bottom, in a much smaller font, is a standard apology for the inconvenience.

Every single thing she could possibly need is in the back of the Land Rover, organized into plastic bins and labeled with each item’s name. She always feels like a mobile running store: extra shoes and socks, body glide, electrolyte drink powder mix, gels, first aid pack, and blister kits. Add to that what she’s planned to wear tomorrow, her hydration pack, hat, sunglasses, extra plastic jugs of water, and all of her actual food - including the cashew butter sandwiches Finn made - and she’s all set. Rey’s been on a taper for three weeks and is itching to get out and lose herself on the trail. _Figuratively_ , she thinks. _Getting actually lost in middle of nowhere Arizona is not on my list of things to do tomorrow._

Poe drops her off at the front of the hotel for packet pickup, then parks and goes to get everyone else checked into their rooms. The line for packet pickup isn’t long, and she quickly gets her bib, bag of freebies, and race information. There are a few other runners she’s familiar with, most through local races and online, and she gets their attention, bullshitting and wishing them good luck on tomorrow’s race. After dinner, they hold one last crew meeting at the Starbucks on the other side of the highway, and Rey goes through her plans carefully to make sure that Poe and Finn, along with her and Finn’s parents, know exactly where everything is and what she expects she will want each time she sees them at the crew access points. She uploads the group photo to Instagram once she’s back at her hotel room - it’s the five of them huddled around a table at Starbucks, with her in the middle, race bib in one hand and a cake pop in the other.

**ultrarunner_reyrey** all checked in for Black Canyon 100k tomorrow morning! Follow bib 238 on the livetracker (link in profile), starting at 7 am mountain time.

It’s 9pm and she’s been laying in bed since 8:30pm, blackout curtains drawn tightly in the window. Her clothes for the morning are laid out on top of the desk and her drop bags are packed, waiting by the door. She’s spent the last half hour trying to get comfortable and get to sleep. On one final turnover, she groans, clicks on the lamp on the bedside table, and grabs her phone from the dresser. Rey unlocks her phone and clicks on Ben’s last message.

_You awake?_

She’s barely put her phone down on the bedspread next to her before it’s ringing.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” He’s had a copy of the race details since the day they were released, and knows she’ll need to be at the shuttle pick up point by quarter to five tomorrow morning. “As your coach, I should remind you of the importance of sleep.”

“I always sleep funny the night before a race.”

“Yea, me too.”

“Ben, will you… will you tell me a story?” When he doesn't say anything, she realizes that was maybe a little weird to ask of her. “Forget I said anything, that was kinda dumb of me to ask.”

“No, it’s fine. You want a make believe story or a real one? Fair warning, if you choose make believe you'll probably get a faulty retelling of some early 90s Disney movie.”

Rey lays back down, curled on her side. She taps on the phone, changing the audio to speaker and setting the phone on the bed next to her.

“A real one, then.”

“Am… am I on speakerphone?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alone?”

An errant thought flies through her head, that the next question he asks might be what she’s wearing. Of course, there’s a chance that’s what happening, a minute zero-point-zero-one percent chance, but a girl can dream.

Since she’d asked him to coach her, their time spent on the phone with each other had skyrocketed - sometimes she thinks she speaks to him more often than she speaks to Finn or Poe, and they live in the same house. Rey really doesn’t know what it is about him that she’s so attracted to… sure, there’s the obvious physical traits, but she’d known he was goddamn gorgeous before they’d started talking. She likes that he thinks about her during his day, and she know he does, since he sends pictures to her of things _when they’re happening,_ not later in the evening. Rey likes that he listens to her, really listens, until she’s said everything, and, instead of the vague advice she gets from other friends, his is always pertinent to whatever she’s said. Ben’s become her constant, her sounding board - she looks forward to his reactions to her messages and selfies, especially the deadpan responses to the ones where she’s being purposely over-the-top silly to see what he’ll do.

“Yea, I’ve got my own room.”

Ben doesn’t ask her that, instead, he simply starts in on his story, _once upon a time_ and all, even though he’s supposed to be telling her a true story. Rey is admittedly sleepy from the long day, but he’s about five minutes in when she realizes she knows the story he’s telling.

“Ben, I’m pretty sure the story you’re telling is the plot of The Goonies.”

“Shit,” he says, as if he somehow didn’t know what he was doing. “So it is.”

“That doesn’t mean I want you to stop.”

Ben continues, through escaping in the underground tunnel in the Fratelli’s hideout, finding One-Eyed Willy’s pirate ship, getting out of the caves, to saving their families’ homes from foreclosure. He must’ve seen the movie as many times as she has, and he’s an excellent storyteller.

“Do you feel good enough to try and get some sleep now?”

“Yea, yea I do. You know what, Ben?” Rey yawns and picks the phone off the bed, taking it off speaker and bringing it to her ear, then turning off the light.

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill it tomorrow. You know why?”

“Tell me.”

“Because Goonies never say die.” She hears him laugh on the other end of the line, wishes she’d suggested Skype or FaceTime so she could see his reaction.

“Fuck, Rey, I… I agree. You’ll kill it. Now get to bed.”

“Night, Ben. Thank you.”

“Good night, Rey.”

XxXxX

1400 miles away, Ben’s been glued to his laptop all morning and afternoon, refreshing the runner live tracking much more often than it actually updates. He sent a text this morning when he woke up, but he doubted she actually saw it before the race started, knowing that she most likely would not have any cell phone service where the race began.

_You put in the work, Rey. You’re more than ready for this, so go out there and do what you’re best at. Trust the plan. That golden ticket is just waiting for you at the end. Remember, Goonies never say die._

He’s switched his long run schedule around so he could keep up with the race tracking, so instead of clocking in around twenty miles that morning on the trails not far from town, he’s been nervous-cleaning his house.

Ten hours of waiting and his house is pristine.

She’s spent the first half of the race making her way up to second place and then staying there, gradually widening the lead she has over third place, and he imagines she’s not lingering long at any of the aid stations as part of her attempt to keep her place. He wishes he could be there, along with her crew at all the aid stations, but it seems like so far, she’s doing everything just as they planned.

Two months ago, quite honestly he was floored when she asked him to coach her for Black Canyon, though he remembers trying his best to not make it seem obvious on his face that she’d caught her off-guard. Through their chats, he knew she already had the knowledge and experience she needed to do her own programming, like she’d done up until that point, and he figured he would continue in the same role of texting buddy, but apparently not. Ben had agreed immediately to coach her and by the next day, she had his usual information packet and questionnaire in her inbox, and let her know he'd be around that day after three to work on a plan and go through how he usually did things.

Parts of him were worried that this would move their friendship into more of a professional sense, like he had with the dozen or so other athletes he worked with… but it was almost the opposite. She consumed him - her goals were now his too - and the role of coach was just added on top of their friendship, instead of detracting from it. He had a normal less than 24-hour reply turn-around for most clients, with Rey it was more like less than 2.4 minutes. His days were filled with his day job, which he could do from home or any coffee shop with reliable wifi, his own training, and the constant back-and-forth with Rey. Living in Bellingham, separated from most of his friends, he hadn’t really noticed how far gone he was, how committed to their friendship-slash-coaching partnership-slash.... whatever-the-hell you wanna call it… until it was pointed to him.

******

End of December, 2017; a month and a half prior

Ben nearly jumps three feet in the air when he feels the pair of hands grabbing his shoulders. He turns, ready to give someone a piece of his mind, and probably get kicked out of Camber Coffee for good, but it’s only Hux and Phas. “Is it four pm already?”

It was another weekend’s worth of filming for Hux - his latest YouTube documentary was going to be about Ben’s training for Western States and then the race itself. They'd decided Hux and Phas would meet up with him at Camber at 4pm, which left them plenty of time to drive down from Vancouver and deal with the possibility of US border bullshit.

Phas sets down her latte and pastry on the table, then shrugs off her North Face jacket and takes a seat across from him, but Hux hesitates. “Quarter past,” he replies, a bit of snip in his voice that Ben is used to by now. “We said your name a half dozen times before I decided to shake you out of whatever headspace you're in.” He leans down, checking out the excel sheet pulled up on the laptop, and reading the header aloud. “Black Canyon 100K training plan, week 5. Now, I know you’re not running at Black Canyon… Rey Jackson? Why is that name so familiar?” Hux asks, continuing to look over the the spreadsheet.

Ben shrugs. “Jackson is a pretty common last name.”

“No, wait. Shit, now I remember. She top tenned at Leadville, didn’t she?” Pleased with himself, Hux finally sits, taking a spot at the table between Ben and Phas.

_Ugh, fuck._ He remembers then that Hux ran Leadville… and has a mind like a steel trap. “Now that you mention it…”

“Stop playing dumb, Ben. You’re coaching her? Last month you said you weren’t taking on any more clients because of Western States.”

“Yea but stuff comes up sometimes so… say, Phas, did you plan on watching the Canucks tonight?”

“Hey now, don't use me to help you deflect,” she warns him. "Spill it, Ben, I'm just as interested as Armie. What exactly is this _stuff_ that's come up?”

He doesn't feel like he should have to explain himself, he'll take on another client to coach if he wants to.

Ben doesn’t realize he'd said that aloud.

“She's not _just_ another client, is she?” Hux changes his tone of voice, reaching out and covering Ben's hand with his. Phasma is unfazed by the hand holding, tapping away on her phone instead. “Ben?”

He sighs, exhaling before he answers, “No.” He shakes his head and closes the laptop with his free hand. “Rey is not _just_ another anything.”

“How did you meet her?” Phas already has her Instagram profile pulled up. “Says here she lives in Flagstaff.”

“I've never met her. Not really.” Hux cocks an eyebrow up at that, in question, his hand still in place on top of Ben’s. “God, I sound like I'm fifteen and telling you there's a girl I like that I chat with on AIM. We met on Instagram, she wrote some snarky comment on my post back when I announced I was finally doing Western States. And… long story short, we started messaging and now I talk to her everyday.” He tries so hard to make it sound nonchalant, but he knows neither of his friends will let it slide.

“Talk? Talk, as in… not texting. You physically dial the phone and speak to each other?” Hux’s thumb lazily running across the back of his hand is supposed to be calming, it's always helped before...but now he wishes it was someone else’s.

“Yep. Or Skype.”

“Jesus Christ, Ben,” Phasma comments. “You've got it bad, don't you?”

“What? No, Phas. Rey and I, we… just sort of clicked. Seriously. We’re just really good friends. Like you and me. Or me and Hux,” he adds.

Phas looks up from the pastry on her plate, staring at Ben, at the same time as Hux does.

“Okay, so that last example was a bad one,” he admits, squeezing Hux’s hand.

Hux looks over at his girlfriend and grins. “I'd forgotten how cute he gets when he's all flustered.”

“Dammit, Armitage, can we just finish our coffee and get down to business? We've got some fancy training video to do, right?”

“See? Adorable.”

Ben pulls his hand back from Hux and leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest.

“Fine, fine. We will drop it,” Hux agrees. “But don't think I don't see what's brewing between you and little miss Arizona.”

******

Hux’s words reverberate in his head still, though it's been over a month since they drove down for that weekend. Ben’s never felt so comfortable slipping into a relationship as he has with Rey. _It’s okay to call it that, a friendship is technically a type of relationship,_ he tells himself. _Ben Solo, rationalization extraordinaire._

He hits refresh on the livetracker app, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees she’s still in second place as of the most recent aid station checkpoint.

XxXxX

Rey has a plan, and she sticks to it. No matter how many races she does, being up at the front of the pack for the start still gets her nerves going, but the second that air horn goes off, the nerves are done and she’s out of her head. The course is largely downhill, which her and Ben had discussed at length - so her training plan included specific downhill training days in addition to her other hillwork, with points made about focusing on quick foot turnover and using the full trail to her advantage. It’s in all these moments right here where she knows she made her right decision to ask him to coach her. She’s been able to focus solely on her training, well, aside from her job, but she hasn’t been the one to analyze her training and tweak things based on her performance or how she’s feeling.

Her crew is waiting for her again at the Table Mesa aid station at mile 50.9, ready to work efficiently, like a NASCAR pit crew, tending to all her requests and those needs she forgets about. They fill up her hydration pack bladder with water, fill up two other front water bottles with lemon-lime Tailwind, and add more ice to the pouch in her bandanna, tying it back in place around her neck. Someone feeds her a banana, then hands her a popsicle from the aid station. It’s just one of those sort of mediocre freezer pops, but at that point, it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted, even if it is grape-flavored.

Finn is at the ready, pacer bib pinned to his shorts and the rest of his gear on, waiting for Rey to tell him it's time for them to head out. She takes half a cashew butter sandwich and grabs Finn with the other hand, pulling him towards the exit. Rey yells out her bib number to a volunteer as they leave the aid station, heading off down the trail.

XxXxX

A handful of male runners have already finished, their podium set. Alisa MacDonald, the women’s frontrunner through all the aid stations was finished, coming in second place overall and nabbing the women’s course record as well.

Poe has the same idea as his in-laws do, as they wait at the finish line for Rey to come through - all three of them are wearing paths in the ground with their pacing. A new figure comes into view on the horizon, and the crowd goes wild with cheering, but as it gets closer, they see it’s not Rey, just another male finisher. The next after that is too, and the next, until --

“Reg! Trish! Long hair, short shorts! It could be Rey!” Poe yells to get their attention.

It _is_ the next female finisher, he’s right, but as she gets closer, their hearts sink - its most certainly not their Rey. They know the first place finisher Alisa MacDonald was racing for a Golden Ticket, and assume the second place woman was as well, that’s the reason many people were here. A half hour later, Poe spots her, running towards them and waving as she gets closer. Finn moves off to the side of the course as they approach the finish, letting her have this moment to herself. She bends down to let the volunteer place a medal around her neck, and the rest of the group rushes in. There’s hugs and a picture under the blow-up finish line arch and race banner, but it’s obvious that no one knows quite what to say.

“There’ll be next year, guys, don’t worry. I’ll send Rose a text afterwards and see if she would like me to pace her again. Now go sit down and make sure to get some good pictures of me on the podium later.” Reg throws an arm around her shoulder, guiding her away toward their chairs, saying it's about time to ice your legs and get the hell outta those shoes and socks.

“What happened?” Poe asks Finn, once Rey is out of earshot.

Finn explains that somewhere around mile 56, almost out of nowhere, the third place person just appeared. “I kept Rey on pace, I swear, Poe. Maybe we spent too much time at the aid stations and Kyla just grabbed her shit and kept going. Rey ran a remarkable race, it hardly seemed to faze her as we got passed.”

“I believe you. Everything is gonna be alright though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, about fifteen minutes ago…not long after Kyla finished, your mom hightailed it outta the ladies’. Turns out she heard quite the gossip.” He stops, looks around the huge pop up tent, sees Rey across the way, in a folding camp chair with Reg and Trish attending to her. “Okay, so...” Poe leans in, whispering what he’d been told by Trish.

Finn’s jaw drops, and a smile creeps on his face when he shuts it. “Should we tell her what you heard?”

“Tell Rey?” Poe thinks for a split second before he answers. “Oh no, this surprise is going to be the best thing I’ve ever caught on film.”

XxXxX

There’s always a feeling of disappointment that comes over him when one of his athletes doesn’t do as well as they’d wanted to at a race - disappointment he has in himself, not in them. He wonders if he pushed them too hard, or not enough. If they did enough hill training or tapered properly.

Third place, though. It’s so close, but it’s not what she needs. Getting on the podium in a large race like this is amazing for her, and if the circumstances were any different he’d be sending her congratulatory messages, but third place wasn’t their goal.  

He thinks about each time during her daily check-ins with him - well, multiple times a day really, since none of the other texting about their daily lives stopped. Each time he’s reminded her to trust the plan, that she can do all of this if she believes in herself.

And then his mind wanders back to last night, when she called him out of nowhere and asked for a bedtime story. He’d sort of blanked, it’d been the last thing he’d been expecting.

******

“Ben, will you… will you tell me a story?” She sounds so young, vulnerable even, when she asks. The softness in her tone itself has him frozen in place, not to mention the request. Ben has gotten used to happy, bubbly Rey, the one who sends him pictures of her breakfast or videos of her in Target trying to hula hoop in the toy aisle. He’s used to pissed off Rey, when she texts him to say that the kids in her gym class were little monsters that day, or when one of her coworkers volunteers her to chaperone at the winter school dance, without asking if she’d had plans already. He is not used to this Rey. “Forget I said anything, that was kinda dumb of me to ask.”

“No, it’s fine. You want a make believe story or a real one? Fair warning, if you choose make believe you'll probably get a faulty retelling of some early 90s Disney movie.”

“A real one, then.” There’s a bit of an echo to her voice that wasn’t there before.

“Am… am I on speakerphone?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alone?” The moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to smack himself. _Dammit, Ben, what’re you gonna say next? Ask her what she’s wearing?_ She Skypes him enough in the evenings that he already knows her pajamas of choice are tank tops from the running store and basketball shorts.

She’d asked for a real story, but everything he can think of are stories from his childhood, and tales of his youth track and field competitions don’t make the best bedtime stories - he thinks, he’s never actually told one before. So instead, he glances over at the small rack of DVDs he has, and quickly decides on the Goonies since he knew the story by heart.

She soon figures out that he’s just telling her the movie plot, but asks him to continue. Ben’s pleased she doesn't want him to stop - he finds he likes this, the odd intimacy of knowing she’s on the other end of the line, listening to his voice to try and get to sleep.

“You know what, Ben?” He could hear her yawn, and then her voice changes just slightly, like he’s no longer using the speakerphone.

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill it tomorrow. You know why?”

“Tell me.”

“Because Goonies never say die.”

“Fuck, Rey, I…” He stops himself, abruptly, when he realizes what was about to come out of his mouth. _I fucking love you._ Ben’s eyes go wide at his near admission. He’s not sure if he even feels that way, and even if he does and it’s not just some weird platonic sort of love, over the phone the night before an important race is not the time to say shit like that. So he figures out something to say, and quick.

“I agree. You’ll kill it. Now get to bed.”

******

Ben’s laptop pings up a notification, that Seven Wonders Running Company is streaming live on Facebook. He redirects it to stream on the TV. When it opens, the camera is on Rey, and he watches as the race director hands her a colorfully painted animal skull trophy, with a small plaque at the bottom. She inspects it for a moment, then looks directly at the camera, flashing a beaming smile. Off to the side, the director gives out the second place and first place skull trophies, each bigger than the last. A few camera flashes go off, and from the side of the stage walks up one of the Western States board members, two Golden Tickets in his hand. Ben wonders how she’ll react when they’re passed out right next to her, he knows how badly she wants this and really is unsure if she would want to try again at the last Golden Ticket race in Sonoma in two months. He doesn’t know if she can take another heartbreak.

The first place woman accepts her ticket, shaking hands with the board member. He goes to the second place winner next and Ben has no clue how Rey keeps cool, keeps her poise, but she puts on a Oscar-winning performance for the crowd. _She deserves this,_ he thinks, _my strong, capable Rey_.

He’s about to turn off the livestream, not sure if he can watch anymore, when the second place winner steps off her podium platform and walks the three short steps to stand in front of Rey. It’s being taped from too far away to hear what she says to Rey, but it’s obvious to everyone when she places a hand on her stomach and holds out the ticket.

Rey says something, begins nodding furiously, and the room erupts in applause when she takes the ticket. As she clutches the golden ticket to her chest in one hand, and the trophy with the other, tears begin to stream down her face in earnest.

In his living room, Ben jumps up from the couch so quickly that he forgets he has his plate of dinner on his lap, sending pasta flying across the freshly mopped hardwood floor.

The livestream goes shaky and bounces as Rey jumps off the stage and runs towards the camera. She leans down, setting the skull trophy on a folding chair, and when she's standing up again, the camera is right there. He can see the trails left by tears down her cheeks and her eyes are still watery, but he's never seen her so happy, so glowing and just, “Oh fuck,” he breathes out. _She's amazing_ . He doesn't have the words beyond that, but he's mesmerized by her range of emotions, her poise and acceptance when she thought she'd missed out, _again_ , and this genuine happiness he sees now.

“Anything you want to say, Rey?” A voice asks from behind the camera.

She wipes away the tears in her eyes, and her mouth opens and closes, like she wants to say something but still barely believes what’s happened.

Finally, she grabs the phone from Poe and switches to the front camera, pulling him into the frame with her and Finn. “Seven Wonders is going to Western States!”

XxXxX

A moment later, while he’s grabbing paper towels from the kitchen to clean up the pasta mess, his phone buzzes with a text from Rey.

Rey: I’ll see you in Squaw, Ben Solo.

There's a winky face emoji at the end, and he thinks that's what makes up his mind. He could just text her back, but no. He opens his recent calls and taps her name.

“Ben?” She sounds surprised and out of breath.

“You’ll see me sooner than that, Rey. In Flagstaff. That training run offer still stand?” Otherwise, the first time he’d see her in person would be at the actual race, and with the organized chaos and race nerves and media filming, it’s not at all what he wants.

“You bet your ass it does!” He grins at that, happy she sounds so excited about it. “Oh, crap. Can I call you later? Poe’s trying to get my attention. Apparently Trail Runner Mag wants to talk to me, Ben. _Trail Runne_ r.”

“That’s awesome. Don’t forget me when you’re famous,” he deadpans.

He hears her exhale loudly, then laugh, and knows she’s rolling her eyes as she ends the call.

XxXxX

Ben’s long run that evening feels amazing - just him, the circle of light his headlamp provides, the woods through the trails at Larabee State Park, the damp and chill of the night air, and his thoughts.

Tonight, those thoughts are full of Rey. And himself, both at Western States. How much she’ll love the snow at the top of the escarpment. Her reaction when she jumps in the cold waters of the American River. Her face, exhausted but excited, lit up by the Christmas lights strung up by volunteers on No Hands Bridge. They’d have less than four miles to go at that point.

It’s been almost four months since he accepted the sponsor entry from First Order, and it’s the first time he’s been excited about the idea of this race, only he realizes he won’t actually be there for all these moments he imagines.

He doesn’t want second hand recounts of her memories.

At 11:34pm, Ben stops dead in his tracks on the trail. He has an idea.


	5. A long awaited meeting, to see how it really feels within your space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, phew. the 'ben in arizona' chapter got way out of hand and I've had to split it.

April 2018

She’s at the airport early, excessively early. His flight arrives at 6:20pm, but it’s 5pm and she’s already there. Rey parks at the cell phone lot near the SkyTrain, and takes the train to Terminal 3 to wait for him, instead of choosing to hang out in the car for the next ninety or so minutes. _It only makes sense,_ she figures. _I can get some snacks, maybe a coffee. Take a walk before we’re in the car for the two hour drive back home. Sitting in the car with AC on is just a waste of gas anyways._

Despite being in almost constant communication with each other, she can’t help but feel that this is a huge step for their friendship. Though he’s mentioned they were both at the Speedgoat 50K in 2014, they’ve still never met in real life, and Rey’s nervous as all hell. A slew of irrational worries have been flying through her head, most having to do with wondering if he won’t her like in real life.

Since getting inside the airport, she’s been to bathroom twice to reapply deodorant and redo her hair, and part of her is certain that if she walks up and down the length of the Delta check-in counters another time, that the security guard who keeps giving her some wicked side-eye is gonna have her kicked out. At some point in her life she’d like to fly overseas, and she can’t afford to be on the no-fly list.

After another pointed look from the security guard, she leaves the check-in area, buys an iced coffee, then finds a power outlet and slumps down against the wall next to it, legs crossed. It feels like she’s reached the end of the Internet by now though, there’s nothing more left to amuse herself with. For the fiftieth time or so, she checks his flight status on the Delta website, still on time.

Despite that she’s already liked it and commented about the weather, Rey pulls up his latest Instagram post again.

It’s a picture of Delta ticket, the paper kind you only get nowadays if you use the self check-in kiosk. It’s laid out on his crossed legs, his right arm resting on his leg, hand holding a paper Starbucks cup he’s positioned so that his name and order on the sticker are visible. The background is out of focus, but it’s obviously the rows of seats in the terminal.

 **running_solo** I’m coming for ya, Arizona.

It’s so simple, not even saying what he’s going there for, though she’s sure most runners would assume correctly that it’s for training. Her mind keeps swapping out _Arizona_ for _Rey_ , and it gives her these warm, fluttery feelings each time she reads it.

At quarter after six her cell phone buzzes - a message from Ben to say he’s just landed. She texts back that she’ll be waiting for him at the baggage carousels, downs the last mouthful of her iced coffee, and gets on the down escalator, checking one last time how she looks in the mirrored wall. Both Finn and Poe had commented on her appearance today when she came to the shop at lunchtime to grab Poe’s car. _Well, guess I see where we rank, eh, Finn? Ben Solo must be pretty important if little coneja here has washed her hair and put on non-running clothes to go meet him_.

She thinks she looks just fine, a decision made with one last look at herself in the mirror before the escalator ends. Her choice that day, taken from the slim area of her closet that was neither running clothes nor the sensible length basketball shorts and school embroidered polos she wears to teach, is a sundress that reaches just above the knee, off-white, with red, yellow, and black details, and her favorite well broken-in pair of cowboy boots. Her hair is half down, the bottom in waves around her shoulders, and the top pulled back in a French braid. She almost never wears jewelry, since it’s not practical for any activity she does, work or otherwise, so she’s taken the opportunity to wear a necklace she fell in love with at last year’s Art in the Park festival. It's a chunk of raw, unpolished turquoise, gold wire wrapped around it and looped into an eye at the top, hanging on a cord of black leather.

She’s getting nervous again as she stands in front of the translucent sliding doors where he’ll emerge from. _He’s gotta get here pretty soon,_ she thinks, checking her phone again to see what time his text came through. _I mean, Sky Harbor is decent-sized but it’s not —_

“Rey?” She hears his familiar voice, unsure, and lifts her gaze towards the doors.

It’s him.

He walks up to her, lets his khaki backpack drop from his shoulder, to his hand, to the ground. One step further and he ducks down, his arms go around her and hers go up, over his shoulders and clasp around the back of his neck. She barely has enough time to notice that he smells better than anyone should after a four hour flight, before he stands to his full height and her feet leave the ground.

XxXxX

It’s been a rough flight. His noise cancelling headphones ran out of battery, and he soon learned there’s a colicky baby somewhere in the plane. He’d booked an aisle seat so he could hang his legs out into the aisle, and his new friend in the middle seat seemed to think it necessary to use the bathroom five times. The latest edition of the seatback magazine already has the crossword and sudoku completed, and incorrectly, to make matters worse. All he can do is hope that the flight is somehow not predictive of how his trip will turn out.

He breathes a sigh of relief when the flight attendant comes over the PA system, announcing that they're making their descent and will touch down in a half hour.

There's a part of him that's nervous and he's trying to shove that part deep, deep down. The realization that he did indeed have feelings for Rey that went beyond just friends, beyond just that of two people bonding over something they devoted the majority of their time to - that realization started slowly, with innocent thoughts where he admitted she was attractive or that he enjoyed talking to her. It punched him in the face when he watched her on the livestream accepting the Golden Ticket at Black Canyon. He had to meet her, had to know what it was like to just be in her presence, and thankfully, months ago she'd given him the perfect excuse to visit.

He stops at the first men’s room he sees in the terminal. He washes his face quickly, just with water, and then fixes his hair, but still puts his beanie back on. Ben grips the counter, his knuckles white and his arms straight. “You can do this, you already know her,” he says aloud to himself in the mirror. “Ben Solo is not afraid or nervous around women.” He takes himself in, one last look. “You look fine.”

“Daddy, why is that strange man talking to himself?”

The little boy’s voice brings him quickly out of his pep talk, and he turns to see a three or four year old boy holding his dad’s hand, staring up at him. He wonders if the man heard what he was saying, since he doesn't remark on Ben at all, just ushers his son around the corner towards the stalls.

Back in the main walkway, he turns right at the sign for baggage claim, then takes the elevator down two flights. His hand grabs tight to the handrail, though more for mental stability than physical. The translucent sliding glass doors open and he looks around the crowd gathered there until he finds her, off to the side, looking at her phone as she waits. She hasn’t noticed him yet and he takes a moment to adjust to the fact that she’s right here, right in front of him.

She looks like a dream.

Ben’s seen her a thousand times before - pictures from track meets in the clothes she wears to coach, in selfies wearing only her sports bra and the tiniest of shorts, during late night Skype calls in oversized t-shirts that fall off her shoulders - but never like this. Her hair is down and it's wavy and she's wearing this gauzy dress and fucking Christ, her legs and… those boots. His brain is working rapid fire, trying to piece together its previous preferences and how they’ve changed.

Ben Solo is supposed to be into women who look like female versions of Kurt Cobain, or Jane from Daria, who dress like they’re not over their junior high emo phase yet, or just learned who Courtney Love is.

“Rey?”

She looks up when she hears his voice, her smile blinding.

Oh, but that’s not true at all anymore. Ben Solo likes girls in cowboy boots and sundresses, with freckles on their shoulders and bright smiles. He likes girls with long tan legs who send him pictures of their breakfast.

He drops his backpack to the ground as he moves closer to her, then rushes up, finally, finally getting his arms around her. He imagined this moment half a dozen times on the plane, running the gamut from awkwardly shaking her hand to pressing her lips to hers before she can even get out a greeting.

So he goes with the middle ground. It’s the right decision, he‘s sure of it, by the way her arms go around his shoulders and so he goes for it, easily lifting her off the ground when he stands straight up. Rey makes a noise as she’s lifted up, halfway between a surprised laugh and a high-pitched squeal, and she tightens her arms around him.

“You’re fine,” Ben whispers into her hair. “I’ve got you.”

Having her in his arms feels like the most natural thing, he wants to hold her there and never let her go, but he does. He slides Rey down with his hands firm on her waist, hanging on for a second once she’s planted on the ground. She’s all smiles as they walk to the baggage carousel, asking about his day, the flight, and _did you get a plane with the screens in the seat backs? Last time I flew, I swear I watched like six episodes of Golden Girls._

His bag doesn’t take long to arrive, a large black and silver UnderArmour duffel with a red bandanna tied around the handles, which he picks out easily. He picks it up and pulls it over his shoulder, then follows Rey when she says they’ll have to take the SkyTrain out to the lot where she parked.  

XxXxX

“It’s really you,” she breathes out once they’re inside the train car. She leans against the end of a row of seats, and he’s standing close-by; one hand reaching up and hanging on to the handhold strap, his duffel bag on the ground between his feet.

He’s right here in front of her and all she wants to do is just look at him. _Alright, that’s not entirely true._ Her mind can think of a dozen or so things she’d rather be doing with him, none of which are SkyTrain appropriate activities. When she saw him at baggage claim, the way he’d dropped his bag to the floor and rushed up to her, Rey was certain he was going to kiss her. _A feet-off-the-ground hug is the next best thing though._

She’s also happy he decided to dress up, well, at least wear non-running gear. Not only because that way she’s not the odd one out, but because holy fuck, Ben Solo knows how to dress himself. Rey’s never been to Seattle or the Pacific Northwest, but his whole outfit screams small batch coffee roaster on a dreary Sunday. There’s a pair of RayBan Clubmasters hanging in the collar of a plain white v-neck t-shirt, a distressed chambray button down over top of that, the sleeves cuffed at the elbow, showing off the full sleeve tattoos on both arms that Rey’s had a mental note to get to see up close ever since they started talking. The bottoms of his forest green khakis are rolled up on purpose, the white low top Converse he’s wearing are so absolutely spotless that she wonders if they’re brand new. Ben’s Garmin watch on his left wrist matches hers, she knew that already, but she didn’t expect the brown leather cuff or numerous delicately braided bracelets on his right. Rey likes them though, the same way she likes the dark navy Territory Run Co beanie atop his head and the wisps of his dark hair that have escaped the sides of it.

“Were you expecting someone else?”

Her head flops to the side. “Of course not. It’s just, weird, I guess. I feel like I know you so well yet this is the first time we’re meeting.” She shrugs, then leans back, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe I’m being silly, who knows.”

“No, you’re not.” His voice is strong, certain, and it makes her look back over at him. “It really does feel like I’ve known you for years.”

She smiles at him again, hoping it’ll get across how relieved she is that he feels the same. A few seconds later, the train comes to a stop at the cell phone lot. “This is us. We’re not far from the station.”

He follows her through the parking lot, a bit surprised when she stops next to a giant SUV, decked out with a light bar, winch on the front, and at least a half dozen off-road vehicle stickers in the rear window. It fits though, and probably comes in handy with the terrain he figures they’ve got around here. She plugs her phone in to use with the GPS, then passes it over and tells Ben to pick out some music. “We’ve got about a two hour drive ahead of us,” she says, looking at the GPS tells her on the screen, “I'm putting you on DJ duty.”

He takes her phone from her, opens the music app, and begins to thumb through his choices.

“Holy shit, you never mentioned you’re a closet emo kid.” Rey glances over quickly, but all she can see is this mischievous grin on his face. “How has this topic not come up?”

She’s not sure exactly what he’s referring to until she hears his first song choice.

_The Sound of Settling._

“Yea… about that,” Rey laughs, but braces herself for a good ribbing. She’s surprised when he doesn’t say anything else to her, just continues to sing along. “Hey! You can’t make fun of me if you know all the words too.”

“Who said I was making fun? Your phone’s a goddamn treasure trove.” He pauses for a second. “Besides… I’m kinda friends with Ben Gibbard so…”

“Shut the fuck up, I don't believe you.” Her voice comes out a bit sharper than she'd meant, but thankfully he's unfazed by it. Rey doesn't think he's _completely_ full of shit - she knows Death Cab is from his area and that their lead singer got into ultrarunning a few years back - so it's not totally out of this world.

“It's true. He's actually better friends with Hux though. He introduced us when we all were at Cascade Crest two years ago. I'll even show you the pictures later.”

Rey makes him promise her that he will show her, and Ben spends the rest of the ride with his attention divided between the scenery off I-17 and choosing the best indie and emo songs that Rey’s phone and the early 2000s has to offer.

 _I’ve got a hunger, twisting my stomach into knots,_ Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard sings, who is apparently her Ben’s friend. She can’t help but feel like those words are pointed at her, and knows they’ve got multiple different meanings behind them, at least where she’s concerned. Her nervousness surrounding finally meeting Ben has subsided somewhat, and she thinks her worries were all for nothing. _Kind of like when I had to finally bring up his visit to the guys,_ Rey remembers.

******

Early March, 2018

A few weeks had passed from Black Canyon, and Rey’s finally starting to come down from the high that followed the race - third place at a big event, the interviews with Trail Runner, and the race report she submitted for another site had kept her busy for a while, not to mention the influx of Instagram followers and messages she received afterwards. Then, of all possible things, the Arizona Daily Sun newspaper and the local NBC station had called her up once they _somehow_ saw her reaction video - she’s almost 100% certain that Finn and Poe may have tagged every news anchor they could think of in the Instagram post. With how busy she’s been, she’s also been procrastinating bringing up Ben’s visit to Finn and Poe, rationalizing that it can wait until he finalized his flight plan. _He’s got a job, and his own training, and my plans, it’ll probably take some time for him to figure out a good weekend._

Not that Rey wants it to take time, because she wants him there like yesterday. What she’s not looking forward to is the conversation with Finn and Poe about how not only are her and Ben friendly, but good friends - they don’t even know that he’s been at the top of her recent calls, or that her training plans for Black Canyon and now Western States, are custom from him.

His email with his itinerary arrives in her inbox while she’s at school, eating lunch in the teachers lounge and catching up on the news. She’s not surprised at the dates, Thursday evening to Sunday afternoon, the second weekend in April, it’s what they’d discussed. It’s real now, so very real, and she shoves a handful of salt & pepper potato chips in her mouth to keep from getting too smiley about it. Once school is out for the day and she’s in her pickup, she puts on the top 40 station and belts out the words along with every song they play.

Except now she has to tell Finn and Poe how close they are. She feels like she’s been sneaking around their back, _I mean, I guess I have, but we’re just friends. I don’t owe then info on all my daily interactions._

 _It’ll be fine,_ she tells herself, but she stops at Whole Foods on the way home and buys those little fruit tarts she knows the guys both love. Once at home, she makes sure the trash isn’t overflowing, refills the water in Chippy the Iguana’s tank, tidies up the kitchen, and unloads the dishwasher.

There’s no running group tonight, so when they’re both home around seven-thirty, Rey is just plating up dinner. “So, there’s something I need to tell you two,” she announces, not wasting any time once they’re all in the kitchen.

Immediately, Poe switches over into his serious mode. “Are you pregnant? Or injured?”

“Or both?” Finn adds.

“What? No, no.” She turns towards Finn. “And double no.”

“Sorry, had to check.” Poe walks around the counter to the fridge, grabbing out a couple bottles of dressing and a shaker of parmesan. “Okay then, whatcha so serious about?” he asks, walking the items over to the dinner table.

“A friend is gonna come stay with us in April, for a long weekend.” It’s the truth, but she knows they’ll still have questions, they know all of her friends, except one.

“That’s all?” Poe asks. “Is it Rose? She’s always fun to have around.”

“It’s not Rose.” Rey finishes setting out napkins, knives, and forks, then hops on to a bar stool as she gives her ‘not-quite-all-there’ answer.

“Well dang, that’s too bad.” Poe sounds genuinely disappointed that it’s not Rose. He takes a seat on the other bar stool next to her. “So, who's coming then? I feel like we’ve been beating around the bush a bit here.”

“Um. It’s actuallybensolo.” _That's right, say it quick and slur your words together, they'll never question that._

Finn looks over at Poe, on the opposite side of the counter from him, standing next to Rey, then leans over the counter towards her on his forearms. “Sorry, for a second I thought you said that Ben Solo is coming to our house.”

There's a silent staring competition between Finn and Rey for a moment.

“You did!” He yells, a bit too loud for inside. “You totally did say that. Since when are you two buddy-buddy enough for this? For sleepovers.”

“...since around, oh, I dunno, November, December.” _Be cool, Rey. Nonchalant._ “And we are _not_ having a sleepover, Finn. He's coming for training, to run the Canyon.”

This whole time Poe, who usually has comments for everything, has simply had a confused look on his face. “Wait… is _that_ why you were all gung-ho about switching us over to an unlimited data plan?”

She nods her head sheepishly, and both Finn and Poe explode in laughter - they're almost to tears when it subsides. Over the rest of dinner, the whole explanation comes out, from the awkward start, the gradual increase, to how they were soon seemingly incapable of going a few hours without sending the other some sort of message. She tells them about the late night Skype calls and how he helped convince her to try for a Golden Ticket at Black Canyon, along with her request for him to coach her.

“So are you two like… _a thing_?” Rey doesn't reply aloud to Poe’s question, just scrunches her face up and shakes her head no. “But you want to be?”

“Yea, I think I'd really like that.” She sees a look pass between the two of them. “Hey now, I don't need you to play matchmaker when he's gets here, so don't get ahead of yourselves. I'm more than capable of handling him myself.”

“Oh, I bet you’re capable of handling him,” Poe comments, and Finn snorts out a laugh.

“That's it, I'm going to watch TV,” Rey says, in mock anger.

“Hey, _coneja_ , when Ben's here for your sleepover, can I braid his hair?” she hears Finn shout as she walks away.

XxXxX

Rey’s stomach lets out a loud grumble, right as they pass by a highway sign, _Flagstaff - Next 3 Exits_. Ben feels like he’s been excellent in his role as official car ride DJ, he's changed from Death Cab and Bright Eyes to Dashboard and The White Stripes, when she requested something a little more upbeat, and sings along with her for every song.

“Oh, thank god,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re hungry too. I was hoping it wasn’t just me.”

“I’m starving. I had some snacks at the airport while I waited, but nothing substantial since breakfast. Are you down for pizza?”

“Always.”

“Good. There’s this little place, right downtown, where we always go. We keep telling the owners they should sponsor me, with how often I’m there. Finn and Poe are meeting us there, I hope that’s cool with you.”

“Of course it’s cool,” he agrees, when really he just wants more time alone with her. It’s so… comfortable already. But no, he can’t say that. If he wants something to come out of this, something real that lasts, he knows he needs to meet her friends and family. Finn is her brother and Poe is her brother-in-law, they’re not just some random roommates or friends who own a running store that she helps out with. And that something real, something that lasts - he wants that very badly.

It’s cooler now with the sun down, and Ben waits while she grabs a golden yellow cardigan from the backseat of the car before she locks it. It’s not even two city blocks to the restaurant, and he spots them at a table out front, on the sidewalk. Well, there’s a table with two men that Rey waves at excitedly and two open seats in front of them. They stand as he and Rey get closer, and he recognizes both of them from her pictures.

“Thanks for waiting for us,” Rey says, hanging her purse across the back of a chair.

“No worries, we ordered for everyone already, just the usuals.”

“Oh, before I forget and am just a terribly shitty host - introductions! This is my brother Finn, and his husband Poe. This is —”

“Please, _coneja_ ,” Finn interrupts, “We know who Ben Solo is.”

“It’s mutual then, since Rey has told me all about you two.” They both take turns shaking hands with Ben, then sit back down at the table. “Who’s coneja though?” he asks.

“That’d be me.” Rey lets out a laugh and raises her hand to claim her nickname. “It’s Spanish for bunny.”

Ben’s confusion must be evident on his face, since Poe steps in right away with an explanation. “You’ve never run with her, but you’ll see it come tomorrow at the canyon. On the downhills, she hops around the trail, and is quick, ya know, like a bunny.” Poe rips off a piece of the homemade bread and passes the basket across to Ben.

“And those braids she puts her hair in are a little like floppy Bugs Bunny ears,” Finn adds in, and across the table Rey crosses her arms in an attempt to seem offended.

“That’s… actually adorable.” Ben notices the hint of a blush the appears on Rey’s cheeks when he says that. “If anything though, Rey is much more Lola Bunny than Bugs.”

“He’s nice to Rey _and_ he makes Space Jam references? Can we keep him?” Finn folds his hands laced together under his chin, his voice similar to the tone a child would use when asking for a puppy, and turns to Poe for an answer.

“I dunno, what do you think, Rey?” _There’s that dad friend voice, I knew it was him._

“Well, he did make a Space Jam reference and compare me to one of the most crushworthy of animated rabbits.”

“Sold. Welcome to the group, Ben.” Poe cranes his neck up, looking at something behind Ben and Rey. “And to celebrate, it looks like that’s the waiter bringing over our pizzas.”

It’s at that moment when Ben realizes he’s going to get along just fine this weekend.

The pizza is amazing, and the bread that came out right before it makes up for forgetting to buy any snacks for the plane and eating those pretzels that were as dry as some of the landscape they drove through on their way up. Rey and Ben split a pizza, a margherita pizza with salami added, her favorite. When Rey excuses herself to the restroom, he only gets a slight talking to from Poe, much less than he had anticipated.

“She’ll only be gone a few minutes,” Poe begins, not a second after Rey is out of earshot. “So this is where I’m supposed to try and put the fear of Christ in you, talk about how honorable your intentions are, et cetera, but I honestly don’t think it’s necessary.” Ben lets out a breath, feeling himself relax when Poe ends his sentence that way. “I mean, it’s only been what? A half hour? I already see the way you look at her, so I know what is happening, or at least what you want to happen.”

“And?” Ben asks, glad this is trending positively, but still not entirely sure where the line of conversation is going.

“All the best to you both. She’s been third wheel to us two boring married folk for years, it’s about time she found someone.”

“You’re not gonna tell me to treat her right and not hurt her?”

“Do I need to tell you any of that?”

“No.” He’s sure of that, as sure as he can be.

“Then I won’t.”

“Heads up,” Finn says as looks up. “She’s coming back. ...so Rey what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

And that’s that. Rey gives a quick overview of their plans for tomorrow’s run, and they spend the rest of their quick dinner bullshitting, laughing about the weird things that happened at the shop that week, Ben’s horrible flight, anything else they can think of.

When they finally arrive home, Rey gives him a quick tour of the house before they have to get to bed - they’ve got an earlier wake-up than usual to make it out to the Grand Canyon on time. He follows her through the house, which she mentions was actually her and Finn’s parents’ home, until they retired, then Poe and Finn purchased it from them before they moved south to Sedona. “We’re quite lucky that happened, we’d never be able to afford some place as nice as this otherwise, or with the pool out back.”

She shows him where things are in the kitchen, bathroom locations, then upstairs to where the bedrooms are. “There’s towels on the dresser for you, and I hope the bed’s not too small. It actually used to be mine, so I can at least guarantee it’s comfiness.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I almost fell asleep on the ride home from dinner and it couldn’t have been more than two miles.” She nods, and then does that _thing_ he’s come to notice she does every time she’s trying to decide if she really is going to do what she wants to do next. Her eyes flick everywhere - to him, her feet, the cuticles of one hand - and she pulls her lip between her teeth.  

Rey decides to do something, closing the two steps between him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Ben isn’t sure if this is her first choice she wanted or the runner up, but he returns her embrace, and can feel her letting him support her weight as his hands find their way her back to hold her against him. She’s shorter than him, by a little over a foot, and her head rests on his chest - he wonders if she can hear his heart racing the same as he can feel her warm breath with each exhale.

Rey surprises him when she lets go, but stops him in place when her fingers wrap around his wrist. They barely close. “I’m not gonna keep you up, don’t worry.” _Would you? I’d risk tumbling the entire way down to the canyon floor in exhaustion._ “I’m just…” Rey closes her mouth, then opens it, unsure of what to say. “I’m so happy that you’re here.”

“There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

“Good.” Her hand slides over his as she releases him. “Now get to bed. Four am wake up. I’d never forgive myself if you came all the way here and didn’t get to see a sunrise in the canyon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all don't mind my "too long emo song name-esque" chapter titles, because they amuse the heck outta me.


	6. sunrise, sunset, and baby, you’re my best adventure yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben have their training run, an unexpected camping trip, and we get a lot of Ben Solo background story finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It’s taken me a while to get this chapter done, and it is a long one folks. 
> 
> Also, that rating has changed, so that’s good (wink wink).
> 
> Adding in a trigger warning here for talk of (past) eating disorders. Nothing graphic, but FYI. 
> 
> I know I mentioned it before, but there’s another bit about Ben’s past relationship with Hux here. I know that I have a bit of an OOC Hux, but I think he’s a legit good guy here since his dad wasn’t overbearing (just go with it).
> 
> Maybe just one note for running terms - DNF stands for “did not finish,” and is often used just as the abbreviation as a noun or a verb.

“We’re gonna have to take my car today,” Rey tells him right before they leave. She takes him into the mudroom off the garage, and starts grabbing gels and other snacks out of various tubs, then nods at him to get him to help himself. “Poe’s got some errands he needs to run after work, or else we could’ve had the Land Rover. Got everything you need?” she asks, slipping on a pair of sandals. He replies groggily that he does, and opens the door into the garage for her. She hits the garage door opener switch on the wall, and the ceiling light on the machine comes on as the door whirs open. 

 

There's the Land Rover, and next to it, an early 90s Ford Ranger, matte red, with rust around all the wheel wells. He knows it’s hers by the collection of running-related stickers in the back window. 

 

“Is that gonna make it there in one piece?” 

 

“You got a problem?”

 

“Oh no, just trying to remember the last time I was in a car with crank windows.” Ben comments when he climbs into the passenger seat and closes the door, a skeptical look on his face.

 

He throws his duffel bag in the minuscule backseat area with the fold-down seats and she does the same with hers. Thankfully, Rey starts the truck without any issue, and he feels slightly better, thought he wonders about all the other things he noticed in the back seat. From where he sits, he can see a few gallon jugs of water, jumper cables, a bedroll and blankets, and a red Craftsman tool box. 

 

“Better remember how to work the window cranks real quick then, the AC don’t work and we’ve got about a ninety minute drive to the trailhead.” Rey says as she heads out of her neighborhood and onto a main road. He doesn’t reply to her statement, just stares. “Oh, I bet you’ve got a real fancy-pants car with working AC and heated seats, maybe even plays music from your phone,” she continues, winking at him as she pulls a cassette out of the pocket in the side door and shoves it in the tape player. The music is playing low and he can’t hardly hear it, until Rey must realize the same thing and turns the volume up. 

 

“...what in god’s name are we listening to?” Ben asks, not a minute later, his voice confused. He remembers the songs on her iPhone from yesterday, the Death Cab, Weezer, Get Up Kids, but this is… twangy. 

 

“John Denver.”

 

He’s silent, and each time she takes her eyes off the road to look over at him he’s still giving her this disapproving look.

 

“What? It’s good! And I’ve only got so many cassettes to choose from so…”

 

“Stop the truck, I’m gonna just run back to the airport from here.”

 

“All the way to Phoenix? A hundred and fifty miles.”

 

“If need be. I  _ am _ an ultrarunner, remember?” 

 

“Christ, Ben, what a drama queen. There’s more tapes in the glovebox if you wanna pick something else,” she tells him, gesturing towards it. “No guarantees they’ll be up to your standards though, thrift stores don’t exactly keep stocked up on the latest cassettes.”

 

Almost immediately, he pops open the glovebox and starts fishing around. It’s still pitch black outside and he has to use the flashlight on his phone to read them. He grumbles at each one he looks at, but finally pulls out two. “Those were 95% horrible, except for these two.” He ejects John Denver and tosses him back into the glove box, then holds up the two that made the cut. “Alright, your choice - Tom Petty’s greatest hits or AC/DC Back in Black.”

 

Rey picks Tom Petty, which gets a  _ good choice  _ from Ben as he pushes in the tape. 

 

“You may regret letting me choose,” she says over the opening chords to American Girl, “I know the words to all of these.” The rest of the drive is uneventful, and as Rey takes them away from Flagstaff and up US-180, she learns that Ben also knows all the words to each song. 

 

It's early, she'd apologized about the 4am wake-up time and had a travel mug of coffee and a homemade breakfast sandwich ready to go for him. The caffeine must be working now, with how enthusiastically he sings along to Refugee when it comes on - much different than how’d he acted earlier that morning. She thinks she’ll always remember how adorably unkempt he looked, plodding into the kitchen from upstairs, messy hair pushed back by a headband, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It was a miracle she was able to hold herself back from bursting out laughing when she saw him in his pajamas - his green plaid pants were way too short, the bottoms swishing around at least four inches above his ankles.

 

They arrive at the park well before sunrise, and Rey knows exactly where she wants to go for the best parking spot. She grabs their bags and drops the tailgate, setting both down on it. They quickly get all their gear on, flicking their headlamps on and waiting for their watches to locate the GPS signal. 

 

They both know he’s a bit faster than her, even on an unfamiliar trail, so she leads the way to set them to her pace. The first five miles follow the southern rim, a flat and fast trail that would normally be chock full of tourists if it wasn’t before dawn. “We’re gonna hit some real steep downhills and the switchbacks not long after five miles and they’re not gonna let up until river,” she tells him, on a part of the trail where they’re still able to run side by side. She purposely slows her pace down to try and conserve the energy she’ll need to keep in control on the downhill. 

 

And she's right. 

 

The trail makes a slow curving left turn after mile five when the Rim Trail dumps them off at the South Kaibab trailhead, and they begin to make their way down the first steep set of switchbacks. The sun has begun to rise in earnest now. Better than getting to finally run with him, which itself is amazing - he paces himself to her well, she doesn’t need to remind him to drink water, unlike with Finn - is having the pleasure to watch the look on his face as the morning sun lights up their surroundings. Rey’s heard some locals mention that they’ve been to the canyon so much it’s not really special anymore, which, no matter how many times she’s visited, is still an unfathomable idea to her. He taps her on the shoulders, calling her name and asking her to stop so he can take pictures. There’s no way she can refuse him. The look on his face is childlike, so full of wonder and surprise that there’s something in the world that can look like  _ this _ , and he’s lucky enough to see it. 

 

The trail continues its route downwards, a good mix of long descents, switchbacks, and more long descents. She points out O’Neill Butte as they pass by, the grade lessening just a bit, but less than a mile later Rey’s putting the brakes on, arms held out to the side as she stops dead in her tracks. 

 

“Jesus Christ, next time you need to gimme some warning when you’re gonna pull the e-brake like--” he starts to say, nearly running into her, but then Ben looks up ahead and sees why they’re stopping. “Holy fuck.”

 

Mules. 

 

A good twelve or so of them, each carrying a silly hat wearing tourist on its back, meandering up the trail straight at them, at the start of a series of tight single-file only switchbacks.

 

“Holy fuck is right,” Rey breathes out, only loud enough so he can hear. She grabs his hand, and walks them a few steps backwards up the trail. “Against the rock, and be quiet until they pass.” 

 

They push themselves back against the rock and the mule caravan begins to pass. Ben nods at the leader and each passing rider, until he sees a lady who furrows her eyebrows and nods her head down at Rey. When he looks down at her, her eyes are squeezed shut tightly and he can see the rise and fall of her chest, trying to breath to calm herself. He squeezes her hand and she turns her head slowly, up and to the left, opening her eyes only once she’s looking up at where she expects him to be. Searching her face, it’s clear she’s scared or nervous, and remembering her caution to be quiet, he counts down the rest silently, mouthing the words in hopes that she figures out what he’s doing. When he gets to one, Rey finally moves her gaze from him, following the last of the mules as it passes by.

 

“Thank you. I don’t know why, they’ve just always made me really nervous.” She takes a second to adjust the chest straps on her pack. “Too many stories of them getting spooked maybe.”

 

He shrugs, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “I don’t like birds,” he offers. 

 

“Birds?” She repeats, a small smile on her face. “Alright then, you protect me from the mules, I’ve got your back next time a bird gets too close.”

 

They start back off down the trail, moving through the switchbacks the mules came up. Not long afterwards, they encounter two more people, a pair of hikers, resting at the Tip Off emergency phone, a landmark that tells Rey they don't have far to go now. At 11.5 miles, they cross a bridge over the Colorado River and decide to go off trail to stop for a break at Phantom Ranch. 

 

“I know rest stops and having a nice sit down in the middle of a run aren’t usually things you, or me,” she adds quickly, pointing back and forth between the two of them, “Tend to do after eleven miles, but since it's just a training run and you’ve never gotten the chance to explore here before, I thought it was warranted.”

 

“As long as there’s that lemonade you’ve been telling me about for months, I’ll stop for however long you want.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got cash so there’s plenty of lemonade.”  The Ranch opens at 8am, and with their slower pace and the stops they’d made, it’s already open. She orders them each a lemonade while he looks at the wall of postcards and souvenirs, and instead of sitting at the tables out front, Rey suggests walking back down to sit by the river.

 

They walk away from the Ranch, down the same trail that leads to where it branched before. Ben tells her about a similar rest area near one of his running routes by a local ski area. “It’s really just a little village, not far from the ski area, but even in the off season, this one lady opens a waffle shop on weekends. She has to know the runners and mountain bikers, the hikers too, will all be through, and will all be hungry. Nobody seems to know anything about her, but I’ve got a feeling she really makes a killing.”

 

“Well, like you saw, most everything at Phantom Ranch is silly expensive, so sorry, I’m not buying you waffles.” She points a little further down the trail to where it ends at the river about thirty feet ahead. 

 

“See, and here I thought you were my friend.” 

 

“We’ve got plenty more meals to eat together this weekend, I’ll make you waffles if you really want them. Seriously. We’ll go to Safeway and get whatever toppings you want. And besides, unlike your waffle hut, the Ranch actually only serves breakfast if you made a reservation.” They get to the end of the trail and he follows suit as Rey drops her pack next to a large rock near the water’s edge. She climbs up on top of it and pulls her shoes and socks off, lays her socks out flat on the ground, and stretches her legs out to reach the water. Ben’s long legs allow him to reach the water much more easily. 

 

“Not even close to waffles, but I do have some snacks though,” she remembers. Rey pulls her pack up and unzips the large pocket, making a drumroll noise the whole time, “Artisan, homemade… peanut butter and raspberry jelly sandwiches.” She holds up two sandwiches in Ziploc bags with one hand and motions towards them like a game show hostess with the other.

 

“Artisan, eh?”

 

“You bet your ass. I toiled over these, Ben. I’m an artist, therefore, artisan.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what artisan means.” The little half smile he shoots her is teasing, and he takes the Ziploc bag she’s holding out. 

 

“Eat the goddamn sandwich.”

 

“Yes sir.” Ben gives Rey a salute with his free hand, and as he goes to take a photo of it for a not-so-instant Instagram story post once they’ve got data again, he remembers something he’d meant to bring up. “Crap, I forgot to ask. You know how I’ve been filming?” She nods, mouth full of sandwich. “Hux is making another film about my training and Western States. Since you were leading, you’re on a lot of the footage from today.”

 

“Oh, great, so my ass and these shorts will be the star of the show.” 

 

“You  _ do _ have a great ass.”  _ And that was out loud. Please don’t smack me, please don’t... _

 

“I do, don’t I? Well, my ass, and the rest of me, would be happy to be in one of Hux’s documentaries. I’m a dedicated Ginger Runner listener, ya know. How’d you two meet again? Wasn’t it high school?”

 

“High school, yea. We were on cross country.”

 

“Oh geez, I remember cross country. I bet you two have got some stories.”

 

“Maybe Hux. He was just doing it because he loved it. I was so serious, no fun Ben Solo.” She looks disappointed that he doesn’t have embarrassing high school sports practice stories to tell her. “I do have one thing to tell you that you definitely don’t know.”

 

It’s something he keeps quite private and he wonders if anyone else knows except those involved, but the idea of getting some secrets from Ben has Rey absolutely beaming. He knows he’d tell her a million embarrassing things to keep that look on her face. 

 

“Alright, tell me. Better be good.”

 

“Hux was the first person I kissed.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“Yea, it was a week or two before senior year started and—”

 

“You didn’t kiss anyone until senior year?” She realizes that might be a bit rude and tries not to sound too surprised when she continues. “I mean, what about like, summer running camps? I feel like we played truth or dare every night.”

 

“Sounds like your summer camps were a lot more interesting than mine.” He’s relieved that her shock at his admission is about the timing of his first kiss, and not that it happened to be with another guy. “Besides, even in high school I was known for having quite the stick up my ass. If those games happened I doubt I was invited, and I was probably too busy off running extra miles anyways.”

 

“But you were relaxed enough around Hux to kiss him?”

 

“He…  _ got _ me. Somehow. Him and Phas both. Fine, I’ll explain. So, practice had been awful that day…”

 

******

Late August, 2005

 

Fuck. 

 

Stupid motherfucking shit fuck bastard new kids. 

 

It’s the middle of practice and Ben stomps across the track in a rage. He’s gonna catch so much shit from his parents when they hear about this, but he makes his way across the freshly cut and lined football field, past the varsity football players running through a footwork drill, past Phasma doing her shoulder warm-ups for shotput, and sits down on the metal bleachers at the opposite end from where his practice is held.

 

He looks up and sees the coach walking towards him, but he’s intercepted by Hux. Tall and lanky like Ben, his friend is at least six inches taller than their coach, and the coach looks the size of a child as he says something to Hux and motions to Ben with his clipboard. Hux shakes his head, points to himself. The coach shrugs and heads back to where the rest of the team is, and Ben watches as Hux jogs towards him. 

 

When he gets to Ben, he doesn’t bother to ask him what’s wrong. “Quite the display you put on just now. That all because you can’t keep up with some of the fresh meat on those 250s?” 

 

Of course Hux knew exactly why he’d done it. There were two of them, not even freshman yet, not technically, keeping up with him and then passing him on the straights during their last round of sprints. 

 

“Yes,” he says through his teeth. 

 

“You wanna talk about?” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

“Wanna go run it off?” Hux suggests, switching to a choice that Ben might like better. “Just you and me.” 

 

Ben looks up at Hux, over at their coach - who’s now talking to the two new speed demons - and then back up at his friend. “Yea, I need to get the hell outta here.”

 

Hux waves at their coach as they leave the school grounds. Ben sets a blistering pace he knows is uncomfortable for Hux, but he keeps at it relentlessly, weaving through the streets of Seattle - south from their high school on 15th until it ends, then turns east on a side street. He keeps on his toes, quads burning up the hills of Queen Anne, barely looking at the gorgeous view of downtown from Kerry Park. Ben leads them north on 3rd Avenue, west on the South Ship Canal Trail, then across the Fremont Cut waterway on the Ballard Bridge. Once on the other side, they catch onto the Burke Gilman Trail, dodging more walkers and leisurely cyclists through downtown Fremont, then finally turning around at Gas Works Park. Just under a mile later, under the shadow of the Aurora Bridge, Ben turns them right and sprints full tilt up the hill until it dead ends at the Fremont Troll. He stops then, finally, plopping down on the ground behind the troll. About a minute later Hux catches up, trying to recover from what was surely above race pace for him. 

 

He watches as Hux takes a few deep inhales to catch his breath, then sits down next to him on the ground. “You’re pretty quick, when you wanna be. I was surprised you kept up.” 

 

Only he doesn’t take the bait. “You’ve got nothing to worry about with the newbs. Seriously. Your two-fifty time is still amazing, and I bet they don’t have the endurance to lead me on a spur of the moment angry running half marathon tour of Seattle. Besides,” he continues, bringing up his right hand to rest on Ben’s shoulder, seeming not to care about how sweaty he is, “If they’re that goddamn amazing at those distances, coach’ll send them over to track in no time.”  

 

“Logically, yea, I know that, it’s just… You know how it looks when people see the usual leader of the pack getting passed by a freshman? It looks bad, Hux, it’s embarrassing, it’s --”

 

Ben doesn’t get to continue. Hux cuts him off by turning his head towards him and pressing his lips firmly against Ben’s. His body seems to react before his brain, leaning into it, vaguely registering that Hux’s lips are surprisingly soft and his fingers feel amazing in his hair, and  _ holy shit, I’m kissing Armitage Hux, I’m… wait, what’s happening? _ His brain finally catches up and he pulls away.

 

“W-why did you do that?”

 

Hux shrugs, not bothering to pull back any farther. “You were in your head, I needed to shut you up.”

 

Ben’s still in awe, but then sees the small flick of Hux’s eyes down to his mouth again, and realizes that maybe shutting him up wasn’t the only reason for that kiss. 

 

He must be taking too long to reply, since Hux sighs, sounding resigned. “Listen, I’m sorry, I --”

 

“Do it again, Armie.”

 

He raises an eyebrow, always interested when Ben uses his nickname. He brings his hand to the nape of Ben’s neck, running his fingers through his hair for a second before he pulls him close and kisses him again.

 

******

 

“And we just, stayed there, making out under the Aurora Bridge, next to one of the weirdest public art tourist traps in city, until I’d entirely forgotten that I’d been angry about something.”

 

“Were you guys like, a thing, after that?” Rey asks when he finishes his story, totally enraptured by the little bit of personal info he’s given her.

 

“You mean did we date? Nothing so serious as that. Just spent a lot of time fooling around. After Christmas break that year, Phas came back from her dad’s in Vancouver with new clothes and a haircut and makeup, and Hux was hers.”

 

“All in all, that’s not a bad first kiss story.”

 

“You say that as if you’ve got a worse one.”

 

“Not worse, just also one that I don’t shout off rooftops.” She takes the last bite of her sandwich, folds up the ziploc baggy, and leans back on her elbows. 

 

“See, you say that, and now I’ve gotta know.” 

 

She doesn’t hesitate before she tells him. “It was Finn -  _ before _ his family adopted me, obviously. And also obviously, before I knew he was gay.”

 

“How’d that happen?”

 

“We were at a party with, you guessed it, a bunch of cross country kids, playing spin the bottle. I’d had a bit of a little crush on him so I was pretty pumped when I got to kiss him. That was all fine, no big deal, until later when we were alone, and I kissed him again. Thankfully, I’ve never heard the phrase  _ ‘Rey, you’re amazing, but I think I’m into guys’ _ again. Well, at least I’ve never heard that line again from a guy, at least.”

 

“Shit, how do I get that story out?”

 

“I’ll need a few more Ben Solo secrets, and possibly a couple beers.” Rey winks at him as she stands up and pulls her hydration pack back on. “Which means not right now. ‘Bout ready to head on up and out?”

 

He says he is, and shoves the last piece of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his mouth, then starts pulling his gear back on. 

 

“One second, you’ve got jelly on you.”

 

“Where?” he asks, starting to try to rub it off his face, but completely missing each time. 

 

“No, hold on, I’ll get it.” He thinks she’s gonna grab her bandanna, but she doesn’t. Instead, she steps up on the rock they were just sitting on, bringing her height up to match his. Ben sucks in a breath when her left hand grabs his chin and moves him where she wants. His eyes are on her mouth as she wets her thumb, then uses it to wipe at the raspberry jelly on the side of his mouth. Maybe, maybe if that was the end, if she’d just wipe her thumb off on her shorts, he’d be alright, he’d survive. But no, of course not. She brings it to her mouth, sucking the jam off, and fucking smiles at him the whole time. “There, all better now.” 

 

Rey hops off the rock like it’s nothing, just starts adjusting the chest and torso straps on her pack. Like that was a totally normal, non-sexual thing that friends do.  _ Sure, Rey. _

 

They follow the Bright Angel trail away from the Phantom Ranch fork, as it hugs along the river for a little over a mile, then begins to climb upwards at a slight grade, just enough that they both continue running at a slow pace. After a bit though, the trail starts to climb in earnest, switchback after switchback. Rey’s still running, after about a quarter mile, and Ben wonders if she’s trying to put on a good show for him.  _ Screw that, I know we can both hike faster.  _

 

“Alright. Calling it,” Ben announces, slowing to a fast hike. “We’re walking these.” 

 

“Ugh, thank god,” Rey groans out, folding her arms above her head as she joins him in power-hiking. “I was only still running because you were.”

 

Another half mile up and the switchbacks loosen, the trail leveling out enough that they agree to run the incline. The sound of running water from Garden Creek is audible before they can see the creek itself or the small waterfalls. Ben gets his GoPro out as they run, now surrounded by trees and shadows of the canyon, they’re nearing Indian Garden campground, one of the big stopping points for hikers descending this way. There’s no hitches in their ascent, no mules to startle Rey, just photo opportunities, selfies courtesy of Ben’s long arms, and all the tidbits of touristy Grand Canyon trivia that Rey can remember. 

 

Over the last three miles, they alternate between running and power-hiking, as the trail alternates between more tight switchback, sections of easier uphills, then it’s final push - a climb of 1100 feet in 1.5 miles to reach the rim again. Rey rushes to his side after they both stop and save the run on their watches, wrapping her arms around his torso.

 

The next words fall out his mouth, though it’s the last thing he actually wants. “Rey, I’m so disgusting right now, please, you don’t need to…” 

 

“I’m disgusting too, deal with it.” 

 

He doesn’t even need to deal with it. Ben has no clue what he smells like, but he doesn’t need to deal with Rey, even when she’s drenched in sweat and smells like extra strength sunscreen. She extracts herself from him soon after, getting the attention of a older couple and asking them to take her and Ben’s picture, so they’ll have one that’s not a selfie. 

 

Leaving the trailhead, they take a cool down walk to the visitor center. Ben excuses himself to the restroom, and when he’s back to Rey a minute to so later, she presents him with a handful of national park stickers, and the latest gossip from a park ranger. 

 

“These are for you, to commemorate your first Grand Canyon run,” Rey explains, fanning out the array of stickers. “And… I sort of have some news. I heard from that ranger that the highway is closed because of an accident, so we can’t get back to city. Sounds like he’s got an in with the state trooper’s office, and they’re not sure when it’ll open back up. I think we’re stuck out here overnight.”

 

“Should we go check out one of the lodges or motels? I saw plenty of signs on the drive in.”

 

She pauses for a second before she lets out a laugh. “Oh, Ben, now  _ that’s _ funny. We’re at the second most visited national park, on a Friday. I don’t need to check to know there’s no vacancy anywhere.”

 

“Great. What are we supposed to do now?”

 

“It  _ is _ great, you don’t even know. You, sir, are in for an adventure.”

 

XxXxX 

 

“Come on, we gotta get some stuff taken care of before we head out.” Oh, she’s excited. Rey absolutely thrives on these little twists, adores unplanned adventures and thinking on her toes. And to get to experience all this with Ben? Something about that idea really tops this all off for her. 

 

“Okay, but what exactly is the plan? Head out to where?” 

 

“We’re boondocking!” she exclaims happily, turning around to look at him dawdling behind.  _ There’s that look again. _ “Alright, tell me what you’re thinking.” She pauses, waiting for him to catch up, then starts again towards where they’re parked.

 

“I’m thinking about where we’re going to shower. What’s for dinner. Where we’re going to sleep.” 

 

“We’ll shower at the RV park in the village, grab snack food to eat from the store, and sleep in the bed of my truck.” He doesn’t need to say anything, she can see the gears trying to turn in his head, but the teeth aren’t quite catching. 

 

“Alright, so I’m gonna need help unpacking most of that statement. I understand sleeping in the truck bed since I assumed you don’t have a tent… I thought you said everything is full, even campsites. We can’t just stay overnight in the visitor lot.”

 

They get to the truck and toss their gear behind the front seats as they climb in. Rey continues to explain her game plan as she drives them away from the day lot. “We’ll be on the national forest property, not national park, so it’s totally cool. As long as we don’t start a fire we should be fine.” 

 

“And the RV park showers?”

 

“It’s really not that bad, I’ve used ‘em before. They’re coin operated, maybe two dollars in quarters for six or seven minutes of somewhat warm water. I think I’ve even got a towel or two in the truck somewhere.” Rey watches him pale as she tells him about the dispensers of soap and shampoo. “You can take a shower as soon as we’re home with all your fancy products. Your hair does look good like this, a bit messier. Like someone made it messy.”  _ Someone like me. _

 

It’s only a few short minutes before Rey pulls in and parks at visitor lot in the RV park, a grin on her face when she sees they still haven’t changed the sign since last year.  _ Buy an RV, the kids can’t move back if they can’t find you. _ She finds two towels in the mess of the backseats and tosses one over to him, so they can shower at the same time, and they make change at the machine. The look on his face says,  _ I cannot believe I’m doing this, _ and she feels the need to try to make him feel better about the situation. “Remember Ben, new adventures.” He groans and stares up at the ceiling, so she grabs his hand and  _ oh, that gets his attention, doesn’t it? _ “I know you think this is shit, but it’ll be fun if you let it be. Could be worse, you could be alone. Least you’ve got me out here too, huh?” 

 

“I’ll try, for you.” 

 

“Good, good.” She lets go of his hand and passes him a handful of quarters. “Now go shower. Remember, you don’t get forever.”

 

It must take him longer to get situated, because Rey is out at the pickup truck, showered and dried, for about five minutes before he walks out. It doesn’t matter how many perfectly staged drone shots she’s seen of him running shirtless through some lush green fern-laden trail, it’s done nothing to prepare her for the sight of real life shirtless Ben Solo, walking towards her with messy wet hair and those little Hoka shorts. Rey is used to being around shirtless runners, but unlike the crowds of lanky men that usually toe the start line with her, he’s actually muscular - his chest broad, with developed pecs and shoulders and arms that he surely didn’t get from pounding his feet on the trail. He pulls the towel off his shoulder and begins to towel at his wet hair, biceps and delts flexing as he reaches overhead. 

 

“Sorry, first one I tried ate a bunch of quarters,” he explains, still working on toweling himself off. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a hair brush hiding out in the truck somewhere?”

 

“Fresh out.” That’s a lie.  _ Maybe _ . She probably has a brush or a comb somewhere, but she prefers to see what his hair looks like when it dries messy. 

 

So instead of searching around the depths of her truck, she just watches as Ben reaches up, using his fingers to brush through his hair and push it back as best he can. He pulls on the extra t-shirt he brought, since thankfully they both thought to pack a change of clothes for after the run. She’s not even upset to have him covered up again, everything she’s seen is burned permanently in her mind anyways. 

 

After a quick stop at the village store for dinner snacks, Rey drives out of town on Hermit Road. A few miles pass, then she turns off onto an unnamed fire road, the only sign saying it’s not plowed in the winter and some national forest service number. She drives about a half mile down the gravel road, then pulls to the side in an area free from brush. 

 

“Here we are,” Rey announces, turning off the truck. 

 

“Where’s here?”

 

“This is my spot.” She’s nonchalant on purpose, it’s been obvious this whole time that the idea of  _ roughing it _ is so foreign to Ben, and quite frankly, she finds his inexperience adorable. “You can’t tell Finn or Poe though.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

 

“Guess I’m special then.”

 

_ More than you know. _ “Something like that. Don’t let your ego inflate too much. We’re having a tailgate dinner.”

 

He doesn’t balk about dinner, just joins her on the flipped down tailgate and helps spread out the assortment of snack foods that they’ll make due with for dinner - strawberry frosted Pop-Tarts, Pringles, peanut M&Ms, and two ham and cheese Lunchables.

 

Rey thinks he’s taken her advice about making the best of things to heart, if his behavior during dinner is any evidence. Between bites of the picnic dinner that would’ve set her fourth grade heart ablaze, he keeps trying to toss M&Ms in the air to catch in his mouth, or towards hers, finally giving up in the waning sunlight. After that, he grabs his GoPro from his duffel bag and starts giving her a replay of their run, then shows her every single one of what has to be almost fifty photos he somehow managed to take that day. Once all the junk food is finished, he helps her with clean-up duty, then joins her back up on the tailgate, feet dangling off the end. 

 

“Now what? Not much to do out here at night.”

 

She hops off the tailgate, not saying a word but holding up a finger to tell him to wait, and comes back with both their headlamps. “See? Now that’s where you’re wrong.”

 

He takes his headlamp from her and pushes himself off the truck. “Is this another part of the great adventure we’re having?”

 

“You bet your ass it is.” She looks up at him and shoots him a smile. “Now follow me, or we’ll miss it.”

 

They walk the half mile back to Hermit Road, crossing to the other side, and making the short walk to the scenic overlook at Pima Point. “Consider yourself lucky. We could be back in Flagstaff, sitting outside on the patio at Mother Road Brewing… but instead you get to close out the day in the middle of nowhere with a far better sunset than you’d get in the city.” 

 

There’s a good amount of people at the viewpoint, all clearly having driven from the various campgrounds, but Rey finds them a spot off to the side, on top of a smooth flat rock. 

 

“You’ve either got a sixth sense about these things, or you’ve got this place memorized, and neither would surprise me.” Rey doesn’t bother to give him an answer, just shrugs, and pats the rock to get him to join her.

 

From the viewpoint, the river is visible thousands of feet below, but the real show starts as the sun drops lower and lower in the western sky. That evening’s color pallet is a wash of blues, pinks, reds, and lavender purples, and Rey  _ should _ be watching, she really should, but all she’s thinking about is how close his hand is to hers, how easy it’d be to lay hers over his - and all the times so far where she could’ve tried to move their relationship up a level.  _ Good things come to those who wait, is that what they say? _

 

XxXxX

 

The sun drops below the horizon and the sky darkens quickly after that; people start to leave eventually, getting in their cars to head back to the Village campgrounds, satisfied that they’ve seen enough. Soon, even the stragglers are gone, with Ben and Rey being the last two left. Neither make any move to leave.

 

“Ben?”

 

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look over at her, their headlamps are off, sitting on the ground beside them, and it’s pitch black out anyways.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Why now?”

 

He doesn’t know what she’s referring to.  _ Why did he now come to Flagstaff? “ _ Why now what?”

 

“Western States. You’ve qualified seven years in a row and not signed up for the lottery. You’ve won three golden ticket races and declined. Why now? Why hadn’t you run it before?” She sighs. His eyes have finally finished adjusting to the darkness, and he sees her bring her knees up to her chest, hugging them against herself. “With your performances at other races you’d be a shoe in to podium. You’d probably win.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Then why?

 

“You really want to know?”

 

“Yes. And besides, it’s only me, you, and the stars out here. No one else has to know.”

 

_ She does have a point, and she deserves this answer, _ he thinks. 

 

“You know I’m sponsored by First Order?” She nods, then turns her head on her knees to look over at him. “They’ve offered me sponsor tickets four years in a row and I’ve declined each one. I got called in to a meeting in October and told that if I didn’t run this year, they’d drop my sponsorship. So I caved.”

 

“You don’t  _ want _ to run? I guess I just don’t understand.”

 

_ Oh, here it goes. The ‘let’s explore all of Ben’s baggage’ portion of the trip. _ He  _ knew _ it’d come up eventually, and while it’s not something he ever looked forwards to talking to her about, he knew it was inevitable. Ben just didn’t think it’d be today, but it seems like he’ll be forced to throw a rain cloud up over the ending of this amazing day. 

 

“Alright… just. If you DNF, what’s the worst that’ll happen?”

 

“I mean, that’d be fucking shitty, what with all the hard work, and I’d be disappointed in myself. But that happens sometimes, it’s the nature of the sport. Everyone has a crap race or DNFs sometimes. I had a race where I spent the back half throwing up… mostly on my poor pacer’s shoes.” He hears her huff out a quick breath and can almost hear the smirk he knows she’s wearing, and wonders if that pacer was Finn or Poe. “What’re you really so scared of?”

 

He lets out a shaky breath and feels his heart rate start to quicken.  _ You want her, you’ve gotta tell her these things.  _

 

“Letting everyone down. I’ve got fans and sponsors, not to mention I’m sure you’re well aware who my parents are. This race scares the everloving shit outta me for that exact reason. I’m terrified my best isn’t good enough.” He pauses.  _ Do it, Solo. _ “That  _ I’m  _ not good enough.”

 

“What?” Her voice cut through the dark, sounding shocked, and when he feels her hand fumbling to grab his, he lets her take hold.  _ God, it feels so good to have her hand in his, to have her reaching for him. _ It calms him on some issues, lets him know he’s safe to confide in her, but does nothing to halt the feelings he’s been catching for the past few months. “You’re enough, Ben. You’re more than enough.” It must be safe to do things like this in the dark night of the desert, no one around for miles, because he feels her thumb running back and forth across his hand. He’ll take it - it’s been, well, a while since he’s been out on a date, training and work and then  _ her _ taking up his time, and he’s a bit touch-starved. He just wishes it was under different circumstances than hearing his sob story. “Your worth is not defined by running.”

 

“But it  _ is. _ It always has been. Ever since I can remember. You know, I started competing in youth track and field comps when I was seven. That’s as early as they’ll let you and I’m sure my parents would’ve signed me up sooner had it been allowed. By the time I got to high school I’d switched to cross country, much to the chagrin of my father,” he adds, letting out a self-deprecating laugh, “But I’d gotten better at the longer races so he found a way to deal with it, since I was winning. And they just, god, Rey, you can’t imagine how much they beamed when I did well. So I did. Youth nationals. Junior Olympics. All-state in high school. Nothing else got their attention. Bet I could’ve been fucking valedictorian without so much as a  _ good job, kiddo. _ I was burnt out by senior year but that was when the scholarship came. Full ride at U Washington, division one.

 

“They were so proud when I was running for U Wash. You’d’ve thought I’d solved world hunger or some shit. But I was still so run down from high school, and then having to balance a full class load and practice, and attempt to have some of that social life you’re supposed to have in college. There was this feeling that I can only really describe as thinking my life was just happening  _ to _ me, not me  _ making _ it happen. I started…”

 

He feels her scoot closer to him on the rock, thighs touching, skin touching thanks to both their shorts. “Hey, it’s okay. If it’s too much you don’t have to tell me. We can go back to the truck and get some sleep.”

 

Rey’s voice is soft, soothing, so he clears his throat and tells her, tells her everything. 

 

“I started restricting. Food,” he adds, as if she needed the extra explanation. She spent her time in collegiate sports, she has to know how prevalent it is. “The usual reason, ya know, some part of life I had direct control over. It worked for a while, a long while actually. Weight came off, my 10k got faster.” 

 

She’s switched hands now, her right on his, and her left hand is running fingers through his hair. The small gesture of affection is enough for him, and his secrets rush out. He tells her about the binges, keeping face around his teammates and joining in as they plowed through donuts together after meets, then days of restricting. Chugging coffee and energy drinks to feel like he had enough energy for practice. The weight loss that kept coming until the team doctor noticed and told the coach. 145 pounds at 6 foot 2, and the series of dye injections and special x-rays that showed off the multiple stress fractures in both tibias, a combination of overuse and lack of proper nutrients from chronic undereating. “You know I read once that every pound lost is two seconds shaved off your mile time? They really shouldn’t tell people shit like that.”

 

“What’d you do when they found out?”

 

“Dropped out.”

 

“Of sports?”

 

“Of all of it. Told the registrar I wasn’t returning and went to stay with my uncle at his cabin in the Cascades. We always clashed a bit, he's sort of this odd hippie. The first week was weird, it’d been the first time in my life I could remember having zero responsibilities. Thought it’d be better if I got away from all the pressure for a while. What was even more strange, was I noticed that every day, Luke would clean up his breakfast dishes, get dressed, and then leave. For  _ hours. _ ”

 

“Where did he go?”

 

“I asked, and he always said he was going to church. Rey, we were in the middle of a national forest, there’s no churches.”

 

******

April, 2008

 

Another week passes, and Ben keeps asking, only to get the same answer - church. He never recalls his uncle being a pious man and this seems a little over-the-top, even for someone as eccentric as Luke. By the end of the third week, he’s had more than enough. Ben has been occupying himself with exploring the property around the cabin, the small town nearby, doing various chores that he’s been assigned by Luke, and the exercises his physical therapist gave him for his legs. 

 

That day, he waits a few minutes and follows down the same trail Luke took, noting the National Forest Service property sign he passes. Luckily, the trail is the only one, there’s no side trail that branches off, or else he’s sure to get lost and never find where his uncle goes off to. After about four miles, the trail opens up, leading into the most glorious view that he’s seen since he’d arrived, and probably in a long time before that. He’s not sure how long he stands there, looking out across the valley, staring, taking in everything, from the western red cedars, Douglas firs, and the moss covering the bedrock, to the view over to the next peak. Ben wonders how it would look on a midsummer day, sun shining down with the fog completely gone. He notices his uncle off to the side, sitting on a wooden bench, his pack on the ground next to him. 

 

“You’ve found it,” Luke states, absolutely no preamble. Ben looks at him, confused. “This is my church, Ben. All of it.”

 

******

 

“I started going with him, then by myself. That’s how I got started running trail, after the legs healed. I’d go to outpatient therapy once a week - for the eating disorder, not physical therapy - and spend the rest of my time running and hiking around Mt. Baker. I wouldn’t call it my church, but those mountains were my salvation. They calm something in me, make me feel free. And for the first time since I was a child I was running for myself. 

 

“After about six months I decided I wanted to go back to school, so I applied to Western Washington, where I live now, for the next year’s transfer class. I couldn’t imagine going back to U Wash, and my therapist agreed that a new campus and the slower pace of somewhere like Bellingham would be good for me. Luke helped me find an apartment, you shoulda heard him complain about having to go from the mountains and down to the, and I quote,  _ big city. _ I didn’t try to join their cross country team, but I ran my first 50k soon after. You know the rest.”

 

“Thank you for telling me, for trusting me.” She’s still got one of his hands in hers, still lazily running her other hand through his hair, and he finds himself leaning into her touches. 

 

“I just hope I didn’t freak you out. Unloading like that.” He takes another deep breath, there’s one last thing to say. “I still go to group, once a month, but I haven’t had any relapses for ten years.”

 

“You should be proud of that Ben. Ten years? That’s amazing.” He starts to shake his head in protest at her words of praise. “Stop that.  _ You _ are amazing and I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. You don’t tell your story to a lot of people do you?” 

 

“My family knows, of course, and some teammates had it figured out. Hux and Phas too.” He pauses for a second. “And you.”

 

“I’m glad to be included.” She stands and he joins her, letting her guide him back towards the road to go back to the truck for the night. When she switches her headlamp on, he gets his first look at her since before the sun set. His heart clenches when he sees her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. “Let’s get one thing straight though. You could win Western States, set a new course record. You could come in second, or tenth, or get in seconds under thirty hours. You could DNF.” She stops, pushes her headlamp to the side so it doesn’t blind him, then takes both his hands, tugging at them until he looks down at her. “You will never disappoint me, you will never let me down. And if your fans feel that way, then fuck ‘em, Ben. You’re more than enough.” 

 

It’s the perfect time for him to dip down and kiss her, attempt to communicate all these feelings he has but doesn’t know how to verbalize, to hold her against him and tell her he wants to be enough for her. He even thinks she’d let him.

 

But Ben Solo is a coward sometimes. 

 

“You’re right,” he agrees, instead of doing a hundred other things. “You may need to keep reminding me though.”

 

“That, I can promise you.” Rey squeezes both his hands, then lets go of one, using that free hand to push her headlamp back to the front. She doesn’t let go of his hand until they’re back at the makeshift campsite.

 

Once at the truck, she lays out two bedrolls, sets two sleeping bags on top for blankets, and bunches up some hoodies and their towels to use as makeshift pillows. The truck bed isn’t the flattest and the bedrolls help with that somewhat. If it’d been just her, Rey would’ve put the tailgate up and cocooned herself in the available sleeping bags, or tried to curl up in the passenger seat. The bed sags a bit when they both climb up, getting situated under the sleeping bags. There’s just enough room for them to be very close but not touching. 

 

“Thanks again, Rey. For everything.” He lays on his back on the lumpy truck bed, nothing but dark night sky and millions of stars above him.

 

“I’ll always be here when you need me, Ben. Now get some sleep. Sun’ll be up before you know it.”

 

XxXxX

 

It’s the birds chirping that wake her up first, they’re always up a little bit just before daybreak. What keeps her awake is the slow rise and fall of Ben’s chest under her cheek, and the way his hand splays across her lower back. She vaguely recalls jumping out of the truck bed in the middle of the night to pee, and then coming back to his arm flung across her side of the makeshift bed. Her Garmin said it was just after midnight and she figures she was too tired to give a shit, so she must’ve just curled up right next to him and pulled the covers back over them both, because that’s where she is now. Without moving, Rey flicks her eyes up to his face. He looks younger, asleep like that, his face relaxed. She allows herself the opportunity to get an unobstructed view of his features, prominent nose and long eyelashes she’s a little jealous of, the beauty marks across his face. She doesn't realize he’s awake until his hand on her back starts to move, drawing lazy patterns across her skin. 

 

“Do you want me to move?”

 

“No, this is nice. I like holding you like this.” His voice is sleepy still, but he’s definitely saying these things. She feels him shift a bit, then lips press against her forehead, and she sucks in a surprised breath. Rey wants him to do that, and much, much more - she has for a while - but she never let herself think it’d come to fruition. Just a nice little fantasy for her idle hands after their late night Skype talks.

 

“ _ Ben _ .”

 

In response, his left hand presses firmly into her back, and he reaches across with his right, pulling her up and on top of him. She lets him move her where he wants, no part of her has plans to fight this. Her legs straddle his hips and she’s propped up by her hands; her hair, out of its braids since last night, falls around her shoulders. He sits up, enough to lean his back up against the truck, and Rey is still unsure of what’s happening… well, she has an idea, or a fantasy rather, but part of her is still braced for misunderstanding and rejection. 

 

Slowly, like he senses her confusion, Ben brings a hand up, pushing her hair over her shoulder and then cupping her cheek. 

 

“I’d… I’d really like to kiss you right now, Rey. Is that okay, babe?” 

 

Her pupils are blown when she nods her reply, hazel changing into an inky black. If Ben’s worried she isn’t fully into him, that flies away when he pulls her closer, his lips meeting hers and she melts into him. He kisses her like this isn’t their first time, his hand fisting in her hair and holding her to him. It only takes a moment or two and they find a rhythm, Rey taking the first chance she gets to suck his lower lip into her mouth, drag her teeth along it and deepen the kiss. She flicks her tongue out and he opens for her immediately, and god, she’s kissed how many people before she can’t even remember but this feels different, feels right, somehow. She shifts in his lap, moaning into his mouth when she feels him getting hard below her, and she can’t help herself, canting her hips to grind down on his growing erection.

 

“Fuck,  _ Rey _ …”

 

“You really want me?” she asks, with another roll of her hips against him. 

 

“Yes,” he hisses out through gritted teeth. “I’m falling for you, quite fast too.”

 

Rey leans in again, and instead of going for his mouth, she brings her lips to his neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse point just below his ear. “Then you can have me.” 

 

She’s urged on to continue by the medley of curses that leave his mouth, as he plays with the hem of her tank top and soft flat planes of her stomach. He fists his hands in the hem, giving it a little tug upward. “Can I?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Ben peels it over her head, tossing it into a corner of the truck bed, quickly pulling his own shirt off too. He wants to write formal letters of gratitude to whoever decided to make these strappy sports bras. Her nipples are visible through the seafoam green fabric, so he leans up, mouthing at the hard peaks through the material. “God, Ben, please,” she whines. “Take it off.”

 

“Oh, you mean this?” He runs a finger along the bottom band, then over the wet spot he made around her nipple. She’s all golden skin and freckles, strong arms and sharp collarbones and these, perky, perfect little tits. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Rey? You know that, right?” 

 

He pulls her closer and she goes up on her knees a bit, abdominal muscles clenching and fluttering as he kisses his way upward, pushing the bra out of the way as he goes. Rey helps get it over her head, dropping it to let her hands go in his hair when he takes a taut nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the peak. Rey’s been waiting for months to run her hand through his hair, part of her thinks it’s way too soft for having showered at the RV park yesterday. Ben looks up at her, releasing one nipple with a loud wet pop, before focusing his attention on its twin. Her hands hold him in place, murmuring  _ godpleaseyes _ to make sure he doesn’t stop, and  _ likethatlikethatlikeTHAT _ as he catches the peak between his teeth and tugs, tongue sweeping across once more. Her breathing is heavy, ragged, and she scoots down again, settling on his lap and grinding herself down on him, savoring the feel of him beneath her, much bigger than last time, and while she does enjoy all the attention he’s paying to her chest, that’s simply not gonna cut it much longer.

 

Reluctantly, she bring hers hands to his face, pulling him off her breasts and crashing her lips to his. “Shorts, off. Now,” she manages to choke out. If his mouth wasn’t doing it already, his hand has been driving her crazy, fingers trailing up her legs and under her ass, just grazing up her inner thigh but not quite high enough for her liking. 

 

“Yours or mine?”

 

Shit, he’s even somehow sexy when he’s a dork like that. “Both, since you asked.”

 

Rey moves off him, though she hates the loss of contact, but there’s no way her or his shorts are coming off if she’s still in his lap. She pulls her shorts off quickly, flinging them to a corner, glad that they’re the kind with the built-in underwear so she doesn’t have to waste to remove yet another offending article of clothing. Before she can tell if he’s taken his shorts off too, he moves to switch their positions, hovering over her and gently guiding her to sit back against the truck bed. Ben sits back on his knees to look at her - one leg straight out, the right bent up, her right arm casually resting on her knee and the other pushing a few strands of hair over her shoulder. Rey is unashamed in her nakedness, especially now with how his eyes rake down her body, his cock proudly standing at attention, obviously pleased with what’s in front of him. A hand gently rubs circles into her calf, as she lets him look all he wants, the pressure building in her core as she watches the rise and fall of his chest.

 

“Ben, please…”

 

“Please, what?”

 

“Do something. Anything,”  _ Don’t make me resort to begging, _ Rey thinks,  _ because, fuck, I know I would. _ “Please, stop looking and just touch me already.” 

 

He smiles, leans in to press a kiss to her inner knee, the bent one. Ben runs a hand up her other leg, knee to waist. “You know that little stunt you pulled yesterday? Licking the jam off your thumb?” She nods, gaze never leaving his. His voice lowers when he continues, “All I could think of was getting my mouth on you, finding out if you taste as sweet as I’ve imagined you do.”

 

“You’ve thought about that?” 

 

“A lot.”

He watches intently as her hand moves down her stomach and between her legs. Rey lets out a gasp when she feels how wet she already is, and dips two fingers in, gathering some of her wetness. His eyes are on her as brings her hand up to his mouth, then his fingers circle her wrist as he sucks her fingers clean. Her sounds mirror his as he moans around her fingers, releasing them with a wet pop. 

 

Ben holds her hand in place, kisses her palm, then shifts her hand into his hair. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

 

Rey’s body jolts when he finally touches her. Ben runs a finger through her slick folds, a groan escaping his mouth. “Shit, Rey, you’re fucking soaked.”

 

“Please, stop talking, I need your mouth on me, please.” 

 

He smirks at her, leans down and chastely kisses her hipbones, as if  _ that’s _ what she fucking meant. She’s about to roll her eyes and make another comment, but then he's licking up her slit with the flat of his tongue and those lips find her clit and —

 

“ _ Jesus fucking Christ. _ ”

She can feel him smile while he sucks on her bundle of nerves, easily sliding one finger, then a second into her heat. The sight of him between her thighs, his hair wild and those dark eyes aimed at her, watching as his fingers slowly fuck her is something she’ll never forget, or how adept Ben is at listening to her gasps and moans, quickly learning how to please her. 

 

The pressure in her core builds swiftly, and it’s not long before she feels her walls clench around his fingers as she comes, a rush of wetness coating his fingers and mouth. He licks her juices from his fingers, eager to taste her and not allow her sweetness to go to waste.

 

Ben watches the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath, drawing nonsensical lines on her thighs with his fingers. Rey pushes herself up, folding her legs under herself and walks a step or two on her knees towards him, then pulls him into a slow kiss. Ben gasps when he feels her small fingers circle around his cock, and she starts to stroke him, agonizingly slow. “Rey, no, you don’t have to.”

 

She continues slowly moving her hand up and down, her thumb rubbing precome over the tip with each stroke. “Oh, but Ben, I really want to watch you come for me. Don’t you want to?”

 

He moves his hand down to hers, stopping her movements. “I want to. Inside you. Is that alright, babe?” Moving closer, he dips his head, kissing her temple, running his tongue along the shell of her ear. “Can I come inside that pretty little pussy of yours?”

 

She doesn’t answer, moaning sinfully instead. He knows her answer, but there’s a debauched little piece inside him that wants to hear it from her. “Tell me, Rey. I need to hear you say it.”

 

“Fuck, Ben, yes. Please, please come inside me.” She’s babbling, saying whatever comes into her mind, as she starts leaning back down on the makeshift bed, her hand at the nape of his neck taking him with her. “My pussy is all yours, baby, all yours.” Rey surprises herself with the words coming out of her mouth, but the low growl that rumbles through Ben’s chest sends a jolt of electricity straight through her, letting her know he likes what she says. 

 

Ben positions his body over hers, and takes himself in hand, rubbing the head of his cock through her wetness, intentionally brushing against her clit before - 

 

“Goddammit,” he swears, stopping all movement. “Rey, I don’t have anything.” He sounds so distraught and it’s quite endearing. “Please say you’ve got condoms hidden somewhere in your truck.”

 

“Even better, I have an IUD,” she says, her words hurried. “You’re clean?”

 

He nods. “You?”

 

“Yea.” With her right leg hiked over his hip, she flexes her foot, heel digging into his ass, urging him into her. He gets the idea, and buries his cock inside her in one swift movement, seemingly knocking the wind out of both of them. Rey appreciates that he’s still for a moment, he’s proportionate - a good way to say he’s large, and she needs a few seconds to adjust to his size. She can feel him everywhere, the way he stretches her delicious and just enough; she’s got a feeling she’ll be sore later but is looking forward to the reminder of having him inside her.

 

Rey pushes herself upward, kisses his ear lobe, hears him moan when she whispers, “Move,” and her warm breath hits his ear. He’s got one hand next to her head, palm flat against the truck, the other tucked under her lower back, and he finally, finally, begins to move. His thrusts are slow at first, and there’s a look of pure joy, of ecstasy, and some other emotion she recognizes and doesn’t dare to name at that moment written starkly across his face. 

 

As he finds a rhythm, she starts to try to roll her hip up to meet his, and he moves her where she wants with the arm under her lower back. The angle shifts just slightly and she whines,  _ there, right there, please. _ With each snap of his hips into hers he pulls her in closer, his pubic bone rubbing against her clit. Quickly, she moves an arm to the small of his back, ensuring he keeps her there, she can feel the pressure beginning to build again, with each of his thrusts. 

 

“Is that what you want, Rey? You’d like to come again?” She frantically nods her head, bottom lip pulled taut between her teeth. “Is it, Rey?” 

 

“ _ Yes, _ ” she almost shouts. “I’d like to come all over your cock.”

 

He presses his forehead to hers, holds her up off the truck bed, urging her to grind against him. “Then use me, Rey. Take whatever you need.” A low pitched whine rips through her as she chases her peak, hips moving desperately against him. “There you go, now be a good girl and come for me.”

 

Oh, that’s it. It has to be those words of his that let her insides explode, sending her over the edge and throwing stars up behind her eyes. Ben continues fucking into her slowly as the she comes down, his movement intensifying the little aftershocks she’s still feeling.

 

And then, Rey reaches up, caressing his face and pressing an absolutely chaste kiss to the side of his mouth. He catches her gaze and she winks, a beautifully blissed-out smile on her face. Ben’s pace picks up, his whispers of  _ Rey _ , and  _ perfect _ , and  _ mine, _ match her breathy moans and sighs.

 

“Let go, Ben, please.” Her voice comes out so soft, so sweet, and his body complies with her request. His thrusts lose their rhythm, growing erratic, as he comes, her name and a slew of curses on his lips. She feels warmth coating her walls as he stills above her, pressing kisses to her forehead, her left cheek, the tip of her nose, the smattering of freckles he finds on her shoulder, before he pulls out.

 

Ben lays down next to her, then pulls her and the blankets into his side. 

 

XxXxX

 

As it turns out, Ben Solo is an attentive boyfr—  _ um, attentive man who I’m currently unsure what I am with. _ Unknown titles aside, it’s amazing. He holds her hand as they drive back towards Flagstaff, draws lines on her thigh with his fingers, which is distracting, since he seems hell bent on inching them higher and higher and —

 

“Don’t make me stop this car, Ben Solo.” Rey tries,  _ really _ tries, to make that phrase come out in her best parental authority figure voice, the way that Poe is somehow eerily able to do, but instead it comes out more like an invitation than anything.

 

“For once, I’m hoping that’s not an empty threat.”

 

He stops though, letting her concentrate on the drive. The tape deck is still playing the same cassette from earlier, Tom Petty, but neither care to change it. When Tom sings Here Comes My Girl, Ben sings along like he has for every song before it, but the little glances he sneaks over at Rey do not go unnoticed. 

 

_ Yeah, and she looks so right _

_ She is all I need tonight _

 

Yup, she could most certainly get used to this. 

 

When Rey pulls into the parking lot at Safeway before getting home, Ben has a confused look on his face. “Did you already forget about the waffles? I keep my promises, Ben.” 

 

He laces his fingers through hers as they walk the grocery store aisles, Rey guiding them to the rest of the batter ingredients she doesn’t already have at home. 

 

“Homemade batter too? I’m not sure what I did to deserve this.”

 

Her eyes quickly look back and forth to confirm there’s no one else in the baking aisle.  _ All clear. _

 

“You did put forth quite the good show with your mouth this morning,” Rey tells him, feigning casualness, as if this is normal grocery store banter for her. “I can’t remember the last time I came so hard, or so quickly.”

 

“I’m sure I’ve got a repeat performance in me.” He leans down, his warm breath against the shell of her ear makes her shudder. To an outsider, it just look like he’s leaning down to suggest what brand of chocolate chips to buy. 

 

The pair make it through their waffle lunch without retreating to her bedroom only because Finn’s home when they arrive, and he decides he also wants waffles for lunch. Finn walks into the kitchen as Rey and Ben are midway through mixing up the batter, as he stands behind her with his arms around his waist and head on her shoulders, distracting her as she cooks. He’s her best friend and when she sees the look he gives her, she instantly understands. Finn knows how to read her, easily seeing how her and Ben’s relationship has developed and…  _ he’s all for it, _ she realizes.  _ Okay, maybe he just wants waffles, but he seems happy for us too.  _

 

They’ve plenty of time to spare before that evening's group run, and they make the easy walk downtown from the house. With his running clothes and both pairs of shoes in his backpack, and her clothes in her Timbuktu messenger bag as they make their way to Single Speed, her regular coffee joint, since more coffee was definitely forgotten about at the grocery store earlier. 

 

They find a table along the outside windows, Ben with an iced dirty chai and Rey with a nitro cold brew with heavy cream. He promises her cold brew from Camber and Lettered Streets and at least a half dozen other little one-off places he lists that she’ll never remember.

 

They linger in the coffee shop a while, and then Rey shows Ben around downtown a bit before the special Saturday trail run with the shop that Rey set up that, with snacks and drinks at Mother Road Brewing afterwards. She remembers that he really had not been interested in being a special guest - the run was fine, but he didn’t want to hang out answering questions from half the high school cross country team.  _ Seriously Ben, everyone is super excited. Even some of the track kids are coming for the run! I’m getting them to run longer than a mile.  _ In the end, he agreed, and really, the short talk before the run hadn’t been bad, especially with what she now knows about his high school experience. 

 

She catches up to him during the run, picking up her pace to get up to the front, where he’s running with some of her faster kids.

 

He slows his pace when he notices her beside him and nods and the kids to go on ahead. “You might be able to help me with something,” Rey tells him, their pace slow enough for conversation.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“I’ve got a few kids that have a lot of potential, but their running posture is horrid, think little old hunchback ladies. Their quick, but just end up with sore lower backs for days after meets.” 

 

“I got this one,” he replies, “Have them, all of them, while you’re at it, do some training runs with a full water bottle in each hand.”

 

“Water bottles?”

 

“Yea, just regular old plastic water bottles, like you’d get in bulk at Costco.” They come to a fork in the trail and they stop, waiting for the next group behind them to catch up so no one gets lost. “Makes ‘em hold their arms up, keeps their posture correct.”

 

“How’d you figure that one out?”

 

“Trick from summer cross country camp. Seems like while you were playing spin the bottle, I was perfecting my running stance.” She fakes shock at his joke, and when the group catches up, she hip checks Ben where he’s standing, causing him to stumble as she runs off ahead down the singletrack, her bright laughter trailing behind her. From yards behind, she thinks she hears him yell something that sounds like,  _ you better be ready when I catch up to you, _ and all that’s going through her mind is how she’s more than ready.

 

A few hours later, on the walk home from Mother Road Brewing, Poe walks up ahead with Ben, grilling him on god knows what, stuff to do about their shop’s training programs, if she had to guess. 

 

A couple paces behind them, Finn leans over, and puts his arm around Rey’s shoulders. “You and Ben, huh?” he asks, just quiet enough so the pair in front won’t hear. 

 

“Yup.” She’ll tell him everything eventually, but she’s also curious how much information he wants right now, so she’s purposely short with her reply. 

 

“So how’d that happen?”

 

She thinks about telling Finn how she was so nervous to meet him in person, the hot shot son of Olympians, who crushes race course records and gets ad spreads in running magazines, but he’s really this tall hipster look-a-like, who sings her Tom Petty songs and is scared of birds. She thinks about telling Finn about this slow-growing mutual admiration-slash-attraction between them and how willingly he’s opened up to her. 

 

Ben must sense he’s being talked about. He glances over a shoulder and flashes a smile at her that warms her head to toe, better than the little bit of alcohol coursing through her system is doing. 

 

“It’s been a long time coming.”

 

XxXxX

 

Sunday morning is leisurely, no running on the schedule. He wakes up, achingly hard with Rey curled up in his arms - he’s worried at first when he feels her start to shift and lean further into him, only to realize her movement is from her attempts to shimmy out of her pajama shorts. 

 

They sit outside on the concrete around the pool, drinking coffee with their feet in the water, while Finn and Poe make huevos rancheros for breakfast. Afterwards, they go for a walk around sleepy Sunday morning downtown Flagstaff, and Rey takes him for a circle around the city park where her parents found her running, back before they were even her coaches. 

 

This time, when they take her truck for the drive to the airport, there’s no complaints out of Ben. 

 

She apologizes about it again, despite the lack of complaints, but he doesn’t let her finish. “If we’d taken the Land Rover,” he starts, her hand in his as they lean against the wall of their empty Skytrain car, “I’d have never woken up with you in my arms, and this whole weekend would’ve been a lot different.” 

 

“Leave it to my old Ranger to help bring us together.”

 

“I might not be able to look at a pickup without getting hard again,” Ben laughs out. 

 

Rey bursts out with laughter as the train stops, still trying to calm herself as they walk into the check-in and security area. “Good thing it’s all Subarus and hybrids up near you then,” she finally replies. 

 

“Yea, thank god you don’t have Subaru Forester, I’d have to move away from the whole area.” He realizes then that they’ve been making small talk and jokes to avoid that he’s flying back, and she thinks Rey does too, since they both go quiet at the same time. He brushes his free hand up her arm, then tilts her chin upward with a finger until their eyes meet. “I gotta go now, babe.” 

 

She nods, silent, and he dips his mouth down to claim hers. When his hand goes up and into her her, Rey moans against his lips, other airport travelers be damned, but the sound goes straight to his dick and he pulls away, pressing his forehead against hers. “Keeping making noises like that and I’ll drag you back to the truck.”

 

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

 

“ _ Rey. _ ”

 

“Joking, joking. Sort of.” Rey giggles quietly and squeezes his hand. “What time will you get back to Seattle tonight?”

 

“Late. I’ve got a layover in San Francisco.”

 

“Call me then? During your layover.” He nods, and she goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “And once you’re home too?”

 

“Of course,” he answers, and she’s up on her toes for another kiss. “Rey, I've really gotta go or I'll miss my flight.”

 

“One last kiss?”

 

“One last kiss  _ today. _ ” He notes how she beams at that, the underlying promise of it, but instead of kissing her, he bends down to pick up his backpack - he really does need to go. When he does lean in, she’s right there, meeting him halfway, and he knows she will always meet him halfway, in more than just this.

 

_ This, Ben. This is when you tell her. _ But he doesn’t, just pulls back and tucks her against him. Ben presses a kiss to her forehead, his hand playing with the ends of her hair. She's left it down today. “Fuck, I'm gonna miss you, Rey,” he mumbles into her hair. It pains him to move back and to take her hands off his hips. 

 

“I’ll miss you too, Ben.” She physically turns him around and pushes him towards the security line. “Now go.”

 

He walks away and gets in line, then starts to pull up his boarding pass on his phone. A moment later someone taps on his back, and a spot of worry runs through him that he’s done  _ something _ and it’s security coming to talk to him, but he turns around to see Rey looking up at him. 

 

“Hi,” Rey breathes out, and she pulls him down, kissing him soundly once more. “I lied, that was the last one.” She turns on her heel and he watches her walk away, keeping his eyes on her until she disappears between the automatic doors leading to the SkyTrain station. 

 

An old lady in line next to him gives a knowing look. Saying that Ben is usually short with strangers is an understatement, but he can still taste Rey’s cherry chapstick on his lips and can’t bring himself to be impolite. She wouldn’t like that. A smile forms on his face and he feels like when the Grinch’s heart grows three times bigger.

 

“Yea, yea, I know.”

 

XxXxX

 

A week after Ben’s left, a package arrives in the Saturday morning mail with Rey’s name on it. Return address - Ben Solo, Bellingham, WA. It’s decent sized and at first she wonders if somehow something of hers got mixed in with his when they washed their running stuff together Sunday morning before he left. It rattles a bit though and when she shakes the box, it sounds like the maracas she remembers making in elementary school music class. 

 

Inside, there's a bag of coffee beans from some place called Camber, a folded letter, and two cassette tapes - The Smiths’ The Queen is Dead and another with his handwriting on the paper inside. She opens it and sees all songs she recognizes from her iPhone, all early 2000s emo and indie tracks. 

 

_ He made me an actual mix tape, _ she realizes, suddenly unable to keep the smile off her face. She sets the tape aside and unfolds his letter. Ben's handwriting even seems to match him, rushed yet somehow still perfect.

 

Rey, 

When I was trying to figure out a way to thank you for the amazing weekend, it felt hopeless trying to find something material that would adequately convey my feelings - until somehow inspiration struck me and I knew nothing else would do. 

 

Do you know how hard it is nowadays to locate a stereo with a cassette recorder? Only slightly harder than finding blank tapes. The kid at Best Buy looked at me like I was from Mars. I had to pull some favors in with a friend and use the audio equipment at our local high school electronics club to make the tape. 

 

Finding The Smiths’ tape was a bit easier. I'd recommend checking out indie thrift stores instead of GoodWill next time you're looking for new tapes.

 

The coffee beans were, admittedly, an afterthought. I’m in my local shop writing this note out, thinking of how much it reminds me of Single Speed in Flagstaff. You'd love it here. Enclosed is a bag of their Big Joy espresso blend, there’s a bit of cherry and chocolate undertones to it, which I hope you pick up on. 

 

Yours,

Ben Solo, who happily won't need to listen to any John Denver next time I'm in Arizona

 

PS - send me a text when you get this, I'll be watching the tracking info religiously

 

PPS - I'm not at all sorry for the title of the mix tape

 

Rey quirks an eyebrow up at that, had she missed it? She flips it to the side and laugh as she reads  _ Grand (Canyon) Adventures _ across it. 

 

It was an option for her to take the Land Rover that day for her errands, but instead she takes her truck, eager to listen to what Ben’s put together for her, curious if it's just a smattering of songs, or if he's put real thought into it. 

 

Ben Gibbard and Death Cab answer immediately that, oh, yes, it's the latter.

  
_ When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride _ _   
_ _ When you need directions then I'll be the guide _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Am I glad to have this beast of a chapter done. I was hoping to have this entire fic done by next weekend, before my 50 mile race, but that does not seem like it’s going to happen. Soon though, friends, soon.


	7. an executed plan, the big dance, the beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> geez, I waited a long time to finish this. Since my last update, I spent 19.5 hrs in woods over 60 miles, and have signed up for 4/5 of my "big" 2019 races... so it's about time I finished this too. 
> 
> Just a couple of notes...  
> (Courtney) Dauwalter: an ultrarunner, known for running very long 200 milers and frequently beating the pants off the men  
> Mont Blanc: a 110 mile race around Mont Blanc in Europe. Much like Western States, it's sort of a big deal.
> 
> also, bonus points to anyone that finds the Hamilton line I dropped in here.

This time when Poe closes Seven Wonders for the extra long weekend, there’s not just an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of computer paper tacked up in the front door with a few pieces of masking tape he found in the junk drawer. Instead, there’s posters up in every single one of the large front windows, from white to pink to highlighter neon yellow, cheering on Rey with words of encouragement written in Sharpie or Crayola markers, adorned with glitter, puffy paint, and bows and streamers like you’d stick on birthday presents.

She knows that everyone else will be gathered at another staff member’s house the late night of the race, watching a livestream and waiting for her finish.

Maybe it's emotions about finally going to this race. Maybe it’s pre-race jitters, or the disbelief that this is actually happening… in any case, when Poe pulls the Land Rover outside of the shop on their way out of town, she’s supposed to just be grabbing some last minute gels and waffles for her drop bags from the store stock, but Rey stops in her tracks in the parking lot when she sees the signs.

They range from _run, Rey, run!_ and other simple words of love and encouragement, to others with sayings like, _run like Ryan Gosling is waiting for you at the finish line._

Instead of rushing in and grabbing what they came for, she walks the length of the store, tears forming in her eyes as she reads each one. Rey turns towards the car, asking Poe to grab her phone from the backseat and snap a picture. Her eyes are red and getting puffy, and there’s tear trails down each cheek, but she has to document this. He snaps a quick picture as she stands in front of the shop door, arms outstretched towards all the posters - it’s clear that she’s been crying even though he took the picture from several feet back.

**ultrarunner_reyrey:** Stopped at the shop before the long trek to Squaw, and oh, @sevenwondersrunning you’ve gone and made me cry. I promise that I’ll make y’all proud.

Her Instagram post goes out as they drive away from the store, a dozen or so hashtags after her comments. Their group caravans in two cars from Flagstaff all the way to Squaw Valley - close to a 14 hour trip with all the stops and the traffic through Las Vegas. Ben must have some in-flight internet deal on his phone, she figures, since she knows he’s flying into Sacramento, arriving Thursday evening and then driving over to Squaw with Hux and Phasma on Friday morning, but his messages don’t seem to stop for any long period of time.

When they arrive at the hotel in the morning, Poe drops Rey off first in the turn-around driveway and everyone else stays in the car as he goes to the underground lot. There’s a line of people in the lobby waiting to check-in, and it’s obvious to Rey that they’re all other runners here for the race - _it’s easy to spot our kind,_ she thinks.

Before Rey has a chance to realize what’s happening, a pair of strong arms wind around her from behind, pulling her backwards until she’s flush against their owner’s chest. In an instant, she knows it’s Ben, and turns in his arms to face him.

“I missed you,” he mumbles out quickly as he leans just a bit to press his forehead to hers. She expects him to dip down and kiss her as soon as he can, but he surprises her when he just _looks_ at her. Really looks at her - like he hasn’t seen her in years, not just six weeks where they’d still talked daily. There’s something in that look, in how his face softens and he smiles crookedly at her, and she desperately wants to know what he’s really thinking.

“Benjamin Solo, if you don’t introduce me to this charming young lady you’re making a scene with, you’re not gonna make it to the starting line tomorrow.”

Still in his arms, she turns to see Leia Organa-Solo, her idol, her boyfri--, _Ben’s_ mother standing four feet away, with an amused look on her face. She’s older than she is on the poster Rey had in her room in high school, the one hanging in the shop now. Her arms are folded across her chest, but Rey still recognizes the University of Minnesota T-shirt, her alma mater, that’s tucked into a pair of khaki shorts. She looks halfway between a middle school track coach and Dr. Ellie Sattler from Jurassic Park, but somehow, it works perfectly.

Okay, so maybe Rey fangirls a little. Or a lot.

Thankfully, not as much as Finn when he walks into the hotel lobby and lets out a high-pitched noise of excitement, which has everyone in the lobby turning around to see what’s happening.

Once Poe calms Finn down a bit and Rey’s parents help save Leia from his overexcitement, Rey finishes checking in to the hotel and drops off her bags in her room. The whole brigade accompanies her and Ben to race check-in, and she can’t help but be excited by the rag-tag little entourage that follows her around, that just happens to include an Olympic gold medalist. Hux has his camera out the entire time, even when Ben surprised Rey earlier, and he’s taping every little thing as they check-in, then take the obligatory pictures holding their race numbers, then snap some more photos at Poe’s insistence next to the start line arch and the Olympic rings display in the plaza.

They spend the rest of their time exploring the resort, before the mandatory race meeting in the afternoon. An hour or so before their dinner reservations, the whole group meets up again in Ben’s hotel room. It’s a tight fit, even though he’s booked himself a rather large room, but they make due, rolling in a couple desk chairs from other rooms and squeezing extra people on the couch.

“Alright, we all know why we’re here,” Ben begins, immediately cut off by Hux.

“Wait, is there something special happening tomorrow?” he deadpans, somehow able to school any and all emotion off of his face.  

Rey sees that Ben is ready to say something snappy back to him, his nerves must be getting to him with tomorrow looming overhead, but Leia gets a retort out first. “Armitage, we don’t need your sass right now.”

“Sorry, Leia,” he mumbles, leaning further into Phasma.

Ben starts again and Rey joins him, standing in front of the queen-sized bed. Every single thing that both of them could possibly need tomorrow is spread out across the white comforter, neatly packaged in Ziploc bags and Tupperware containers, labeled with which aid station they expect to need it at. Finn, Poe, and her parents have all crewed for her in the past, so most of her explanation is for Hux, Phasma, and Leia. They’ll divide up aid station responsibilities tomorrow - with the mountain roads and the nature the course, splitting up into two teams is the only way to ensure that Rey and Ben will have someone meeting them at each crew-accessible aid station. She’s ready for that already though, and passes out packets of information with detailed instructions and maps. _If something happens, it happens, but I’m sure as hell not letting poor race day planning be what screws us over._

When they finish their explanation and Rey asks if anyone has questions or is unsure about anything, she expects maybe questions about food or the correct Tailwind powder to water ratios, but not about the race day plan that Ben proposed when he was in Arizona.

She watches as Leia stands and begins to pace in the small open area of the hotel room. “This is your race, so I’m only going to ask this once - we’re really doing this?” she asks, her voice calm as she looks over at Rey, and then back to her son. “Ben, this really is the last chance you two have if you wanna change the plan.”

“Yes…” Ben answers quickly, then sneaks a glance to his side. “Right, Rey?”

“Of course.” Her confirmation comes just as quickly as his, and she can’t help but smile when she sees the relief evident on his face. “Ben and I have talked this through, more times than we probably needed to, and that’s the plan.”

******

April, 2018

Flagstaff, Arizona

The morning air is surprisingly crisp, and Rey is thankful they brought their coffees outside with them so she’s got something to warm hands with. _Well, when Ben’s not busy doing that for me._ Despite the cool morning, they’ve both got their sweatpants rolled up to their knees, letting their legs sit in the water on the first step into the pool. She can already tell, just by feel, that it’s going to be another gorgeous day.

“I’ve been thinking, about Western States.”

“Yea?” Unsure if he’s being serious or not, she dips her hand in the pool, splashing a bit of water on his legs. “Thinking about how you’re gonna win?”

“No. I’ve got… a plan. A strategy, I guess.” He pauses to take a sip from his coffee, then sets the mug down next to him. “Something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while now, but decided I’d rather do it in person. What were you thinking of doing for a pacer?”

“Poe and Finn. I’d start with Poe and then they’ll switch out at Green Gate.” She’d talked with them both casually about it already, soon after Black Canyon. Both had paced for her before at prior races, and she trusts them to know what she needs on course, how to keep her on track, and most importantly, how to keep her distracted from the inevitable lows of running that long of a distance.

“Would you be adverse to changing that up?”

“What are you getting at? You’re being awfully vague right now.” _And making me awfully nervous, all this talk about needing to talk to me for a while now._

“I want to run with you.”

She almost says, _yea, of course. We’re both running the same race, dummy,_ but there’s a serious tone in his voice that tells her not to joke with him, and a split second later it dawns on her what he might mean.

“As in, _with me_ with me?”

Ben sits up straighter, leaning his arms over his legs. “After Black Canyon, I was so excited for you, for this race, for all of it… then I realized I want to experience it _with you,_ not just listen to you tell me about it afterwards.” He pauses, looking over at her then to find she’s already got her eyes glued to him. He continues, just so there’s no room for misunderstanding. “I’ll be your pacer, the whole way.”

“You won’t win. Or podium. You probably won’t top ten.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“But First Order… if you don’t top ten they’ll be furious. Shit, they’re liable to drop you.”

“Fuck ‘em.” His reply is immediate and firm, and Rey knows he means it. “They already threatened to drop me if I didn’t take their invite. I'm over their bullshit. I’ve got other sponsors anyways.”

She’s silent for a moment, and he lets her think. Turning away from him, her eyes scan across the calm pool water. “You’re sure you wanna do this?” _With me? For me?_

He nods. “More sure than I’ve been about anything for a long time. I want to be there for you. Fuck, who knows, if I pace you, maybe you’ll win.”

Her eyes go wide. “With Dauwalter in the mix? Who can run for 240 miles straight in Moab?”

Ben laughs at himself, but it's still a nice thought, overreaching, but nice all the same. “Maybe you’ll top ten. Get your automatic entry for next year.”

“I’d like that.”

“Then that’ll be our plan.” He turns towards her, and takes the coffee mug out of her hands, setting it on the concrete so he can take both of her hands in his. “Rey Jackson, do you formally accept my help as pacer? I promise to stay with you through the ups and downs, both literal and metaphorical, to anticipate your needs before you know them, and provide all the encouragement and witty banter I can fit into one hundred miles.”

“Ben Solo, I thought you’d never ask.”

XxXxX

Looking out through the kitchen window, they can't hear a thing, but that hasn't stopped Finn and Poe from watching the entire scene unfold.

Finn sighs, looking away as Ben brings Rey’s hand up to his mouth, kissing his way across her knuckles, before Rey gets antsy and just hauls him into her. “Would you look at that? Our trio’s down to two.”

“Stop quoting The Lion King and get these eggs cracked.” Poe slides the carton across the counter to Finn. “Our two lovebirds need their huevos rancheros.” He grabs more ingredients from the fridge, and give him a quick kiss as he sets them down on the counter in front of Finn. “Besides, it’s more like our trio’s up to four.”

******

Squaw Village, CA

June 29, 2018

Friday evening

He gets a text from Rey just after eight, after they’ve eaten as much as they can stomach for dinner, and made their way to their respective rooms, asking him to come meet her outside in the village. The sun hasn’t quite set yet but with how early of a morning they will have, everyone was anxious to get to bed as soon as they could. _Not Rey, apparently._ Ben grabs his room key and makes his way outside. He doesn’t have to go far before he finds her, sitting on a bench made from a very old ski lift chair. Rey’s flip-flops are on the ground, her sweatpants-clad legs pulled up on the seat, and she gives him a little wave when she notices him. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong or chastise her for not being in bed, just sits down in the spot next to her and puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side. She hums in contentment, burrowing herself further into his side.

“Have you ever been skiing, Ben?” she asks, after a few moments of comfortable silence. Any place else and he’d think this was coming from left field, but they _are_ at a famous ski resort, sitting on a ski lift chair, even though the only snow they'll see if what’s reported to still be at the top of the first climb tomorrow.

He nods, a smile forming as he thinks back - it’s actually a great memory - watching his normally poised and calm mother trying to snowplow her way down the bunny hill at Mt. Baker, his dad taking him up to the very top and encouraging him to try runs outside his comfort zone. “Not in ages, but yea. Have you?”

“No, never.” She shakes her head against his shoulder. “We almost went to Taos last winter, the three of us, but the plans fell through.”

“We should go then, sometime.”

“Really?” Rey asks, her voice surprised. She sits up a little bit straighter, taking some of her weight off of him, and lets her legs slide down into a normal sitting position, dangling off the bench.

“Yea, why not? Come visit me this winter, there's plenty of places near me, or we could even drive up to Whistler, rent a cabin. Stay a day with Hux and Phas in Vancouver, catch a Canucks game. Maybe drag them to the mountain along with us.”

“You'd _really_ want me to come visit you?

_What the hell sort of question is that?_ “Of course, I would.” He turns to face her, takes her hands from out of her lap, and brings them to his. “Preferably long before winter, and often. Why would think I wouldn't want you to visit?”

Rey doesn’t answer. Her eyes drop down, looking anywhere except up at him.

“Hey, babe, you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Nerves for tomorrow?”

“A little more than twenty four hours from now and this is all over. We’re at the end.”

_Shit._ He realizes immediately that she’s not referring to the race and her training cycle being over, she’s talking about _them._ They’d just sort of progressed naturally into this relationship, but with being thousands of miles away, and work, and training, both of them had been avoiding the conversation about what was actually happening between them, whether on purpose or not.

“Just because the race is over tomorrow doesn’t change anything. Tomorrow's not the end, Rey.” He keeps his voice calm and gentle, and since she’s still looking everywhere but at him, Ben lifts her chin up with his index finger, and sees uncertainty written all across her face. “Tomorrow is the beginning. Yea, you’ll go back to Flagstaff and I’ll go back to Washington after the race, but we aren’t stuck there. I’ll fly you up to Bellingham as soon as you’re able, and I’ll be back down to Arizona this summer, despite how hot I know it’ll be.” He watches her eyes soften, and he leans over, pressing kisses to her forehead, her temple, the side of her mouth - and he remembers something else he knows she’ll love. “Oh, and I hope your schedule is clear for the week of Labor Day, because I’d really like you to come with me for Mont Blanc.” She’s still quiet, just staring, so he keeps going. “You’re looking at me like I’m crazy and I know this is a lot and we'll talk more later, after the race, but everything that’s happened, Arizona… it meant the world to me, and I --”

“I think I love you, Ben.”

“Excuse me?” He’s not sure, but god, he hopes he’s heard her correctly.

“I think I love you,” Rey repeats, her voice turning more confident. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Then why all this talk of it being the end?”

“I just… I kept telling myself it was one-sided. That what happened in Arizona was one-off thing, fueled by, I dunno, the previous night’s emotions and hormones and a runner’s high, or whatever other bullshit rationalization I could come up with.”

He’s not sure why she thinks Arizona was a one-off thing, especially with some of the less-than-innocent phone calls they’ve had since that weekend, but he can bring up that point later maybe, in a different conversation. There’s much more important things that he needs to say right now.

“That’s silly,” he starts, and she side-eyes him in just the way he knew she would, before he continues. “It’s silly, because I don’t _think_ I’m in love with you, I know I am. And I have been, for quite some time now.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Really.”

When she leans in, head craning up in a silent invitation, he kisses her slowly. Because it’s not the end, and he doesn’t need to rush. “I’d really like to take you back to my hotel room.”

“I’d like that, but we can’t. Not tonight.” She doesn’t say why not, she doesn’t need to. They’ll be up by 2:45am and as much as he wants the chance to spend the night with her in his arms, he knows they won’t be getting any sleep if that happens.

“I know.” Ben stands up and holds out both his hands, pulls her up from the bench. “Come on, let’s go get some beauty sleep.”

He somehow manages to walk back up to the floor that everyone's hotel rooms are on without doing what he really wants to do. And while he’s not completely certain what that is, everything he’s imagined so far involves backing her up against some quiet hallway alcove and crashing his mouth against hers. He kisses her once again, what’s supposed to be a final quick goodnight kiss, but Rey’s hands go to his collar and she holds him in place, deepening the kiss as she walks herself back against the wall.

They don't hear the door across the hall open, but they do hear someone loudly clear their throat.

“Oh, for fucks sake, you two.” They jump apart and see Poe standing across the hallway from them, a look on his face like he's an upset parent who just found their kid making out with the neighbor kid on the front porch. He’s using his dad voice, and even Ben knows that means business. “Give it a rest, and go to bed already.”

XxXxX

June 30, 2018

Saturday morning

Squaw Valley, California

The digital clock at the start line counts down, now showing less than three minutes to go. Rey spots Ben in the crowd, some fifteen feet or so away. She doesn’t think twice, just quickly pulls her phone out of its pouch on her pack and takes a few pictures of him, capturing this moment before he notices her. Ben’s wearing that silly crop top he cut up himself in his kitchen the other week while they were chatting on Facetime - she can still hear his reply to her poking fun at him. _Sounds like someone is just jealous because they don’t have a sweet crop top to wear to the big dance._ He has a matching grey and white bandanna tied around his neck, and there’s long black hair coming out from under the mesh cap on his head. People all around are taking last minute photos, mostly of the countdown clock, so no one pays any extra attention to her. Bathed in the light of a few spotlights and hundreds of headlamps, he glows, looking totally in his element. He must realize he's being watched, and finally looks over, noticing what she’s doing, and his lips tug up in half a smile. _He’s perfect,_ she thinks, _and he’s mine._

She holds his gaze for a moment, but soon everyone around her begins to count down to the start, and she quickly shoves her phone back where it belongs. There’s a cacophony of high pitched beeps and audible vibrations as everyone starts their watches on their way through the start gate. Rey always loves this part - it makes her smile everytime - she thinks it sounds like someone’s first awful foray into making EDM.

Ben starts off with the male front runners, Rey starts with women at the front of the pack. There’s no time to settle into a rhythm, the course quickly starts to gain elevation on the green and blue ski runs and cat tracks that zig zag up Squaw Peak. A little over a half hour into the climb, the sun starts to rise over the valley, lighting up the escarpment above. With every step she’s been going back and forth with whether the plan still stands - but with last night’s revelations, _he loves me, he loves me, he loves me_ , she repeats, surely it must. He’s never let her down before, never forgotten to call when he’s said he would, never gave her training plan to her late. She power hikes up one last steep section of trail and sees him there - sitting on a rock, left arm leaning on his knee, real casual and looking no worse for the wear, like he didn’t just climb up 2500 feet of elevation in three-ish miles.

He's _exactly_ where they planned.

There’s a few cheers from other runners when she takes his face in both her hands, and bends down, kissing him square on the mouth.

“So, you, ugh… you run here often?” he mumbles against her lips when she pulls away.

“No, it’s my first time.” She takes a step back and gives him the space to stand.

“Care for some company? I hear there’s about ninety-six miles left. Pretty thing like yourself shouldn’t be out here all alone.”

She rolls her eyes at how cheesy he’s being, but plays along anyways. With what went down last night and seeing that he’s here, that he waited for her, a million worries’ worth of weight has been lifted off her. “Thank goodness you’re here then.” When she goes up on her tiptoes, Ben realizes what she wants, leaning down as she gives him on last quick peck on the cheek, then changes her tone. She nods her head towards the trail. “Let’s get a move on, I’ve got a race to destroy.”

XxXxX

Twenty-six miles ahead of them, their “friend” crew is waiting at the first crew-accessible aid station, Robinson Flat at mile 30. The so-called A group - Hux, Phasma, Finn, and Poe - left as soon as the runners, just to be safe on time, since the drive through the mountains would take them two and a half hours. The second crew, B group, consisting of Rey and Finn’s parents and Leia, left immediately after the morning check-in, their drive that finished up the windy Mosquito Ridge Road would take well over three hours. Ben and Rey would get to their parents first, 24 miles in at Duncan Canyon.

Poe is anxious, wearing a trough in the ground from his pacing back and forth, until they finally get an update.  

“Alright, just got a text from mom,” Finn says.

“Oh, thank Jesus,” Poe mutters in the background. His pacing finally stops. “What's it say?”

“ _Ben and Rey together, just left Duncan, heading your way. Making excellent time_.” He reads off the timestamp his mom added and glances at his watch, glad his mom had remembered to put her own timestamp on the text, since at times there wasn’t much data up in the mountains, and they never trusted the timestamps the phone gave. “Okay, if they’re on pace with the plan, they’ll be here in an hour. I’ll set the alarm, power nap time.”

They all slump down into their camp chairs on cue, intent on getting a bit of rest as their long day of _hurry up and wait_ continues.

XxXxX

They both know they have to make up for some time, especially if they’re aiming for Rey to be in the top ten female finishers - they’ll have to pick up the pace and pick off some runners.

And they do.

It’s not perfect - it’s cold at the top of the escarpment where Ben joined her, and hot as shit in the canyons. Rey nearly sends herself flying when she catches a toe on rock that she knows she should’ve seen. But he keeps her on pace, constantly reminding her to drink more water with each buzz of her watch when it ticks off miles. They’re quick at each aid station, only staying to the shortest amount of time possible to refill and get some food in. Their parents meet them at Dusty Corners, with Leia jogging alongside the pair as soon as they come through the shoot and yelling ahead to Rey’s parents what they need.

Rey tries to take stock of as much of the experience as she can, well aware of how the moments will all start to blend together in the days and weeks after the race. Little things, she wants to remember those tiny details that will be unique to this race as they chug along.

The sounds of her friends cheering when they come into Michigan Bluff, the decorated aid stations and the grimace on Ben’s face as he downs Dixie cups of pickle juice.

The sugary sweetness of the red freezer pop she grabs instead of the pickle juice.

The hug she gets from Leia each time she sees her, and how it makes her feel like she’s known her for ages and not only a day.

The tone of Poe’s dad voice when he tells her _beware the chair,_ since he knows how much she wants to sit down - and she does, just once at Forest Hill, mile 55, to change out her shoes with help from Finn.

They come into the Green Gate aid station, located just shy of 80 mile mark, right before 8:30pm. By this time in the race, they’ve been on their feet for over fifteen hours, and Ben knows that this is the point where they’ll have to rally and hold their shit together for Rey to stay in the top ten. They’d passed another woman a number of miles back, but there’s no way she’s far enough behind not to worry.

As they come through the entrance shoot, both yelling out their race numbers to the volunteers, Ben stops dead, nearly causing Rey to run into his back. “Holy shit.”

She thinks he’s just excited to see everyone - it’s the first aid station with their crew together as one, or maybe the aid station has cup noodle - until she looks ahead and to the right.

“Dad?” Ben manages to squeak out.

And it's him, Han Solo, in jeans and a Cabela’s barn coat with a headlamp on, standing next to Poe, as if he’s been with their groups the whole time. She doesn’t know what Ben’s going to do, or what he’s thinking, he seems to be in a daze now. But then, thank god, Hux rushes forward and asks what they need, and Ben snaps out of it, quickly rattling off the refills and foods he wants, and so Rey does the same.

“You guys good?” Finn asks, three minutes later as he helps Rey put her hydration pack back on. She knows what he means - this is the last time they’ll see their crews until the end. “I know  you’re well aware of the course from here,” he says, alluding to how this is the section she’s run over and over again with him. She nods, still chewing on the s’mores flavored stroopwafel he’d handed her a minute ago. “Alright, this is where we leave you.”

“Bring ‘er home, kiddo,” Han says, and Ben’s surprise is evident when his father pulls him into a hug.

There’s twenty miles left to go, and he’s just about exhausted all the discussion topics he can think of, and he can’t even fall back on pointing out odd-shaped rocks and trees since it’s dark out.

So he takes the time to tell her a bit more about his relationship with his parents, about what happened after he dropped out of the University of Washington and moved in with Luke. Neither lived in-state anymore, both quickly grabbed up job offers from Team USA and sold their house in Seattle for a small condo in Colorado Springs. When everything happened, dropping out, moving in with his Uncle, Ben hadn’t been surprised that it was his mother who took the first flight out of Denver to check on him.

In the days and weeks and then months that followed, he’d spoken with his mother about what was happening - about the red tape and paperwork needed to actually drop out of a university, Uncle Luke’s quirky habits, what he thought of the therapist’s office’s choice of furniture. But somehow, whenever he called, his father was always out of the house, or busy, or any number of progressively weakening excuses that Leia kept giving. _Ben, you know it took you a long time to open up with me,_ his therapist reminded him, when he brought up the lack of willingness to communicate on his father’s side. _Maybe he just doesn’t know how._ It may have been offhand, but she’d handed him an envelope and suggested writing out a letter to Han, and then just… not mailing it.

So he did. At the coffee shop two doors down from the therapist’s office, he ripped a sheet of paper from a spiral notebook and scribbled out everything he was feeling. Walking back to his car, he passed a public mailbox and stopped instantly. Before he knew what was happening, he’d found a simple stamp in his wallet behind a Baskin Robbins frequency card, written the address on the envelope, stamped and sealed it, and put it in the bright blue mailbox.  

Two weeks later, he’d forgotten about the hastily mailed letter - until he checked Luke’s PO box in town and found a reply letter from his dad inside.

And that’s how it started. Letter after letter until things seemed to be getting better, until they learned again how to talk. Until Ben was able to believe his father wasn’t angry and disappointed and let down by what happened, until Han was able to believe that what happened wasn’t completely his fault.

Almost a year’s worth of letters passed, until one day, Han showed up, just out of the blue. At the end of Ben’s first 50K, a small local race with barebones aid stations and the national anthem played by the high school jazz band - there was his dad. The same barn coat as he wore today, faded jeans, and old shoes, standing in the muddy grass near the finish line next to Leia.

XxXxX

The lights of the high school track have been visible for a while, like some beacon guiding them back home. The second her feet hit that track it's like she's got a second wind, as if she hasn't been running almost twenty hours, surviving in a cocktail of tailwind, gu gels, and crushed up aid station Pringles. Not even one full go around the track and they'll be done, then Rey looks up and him next to her and nods. He knows.

They both speed up, and she's brought back to track workouts and 400 meter sprints. Hot summer days spent doing lap after lap around the track at Coconino High School. Cheering for her students as they crush the goals they’d set for themselves.

Rey rounds like the last corner of the track and finally everyone comes into view. Both their sets of friends, both sets of parents. The race director. The media.

And then, in one quick glance upward, the digital clock.

She sprints.

Her legs feel like pudding, doubly so now that they’re on the strange-feeling rubberized all-weather track after almost a day on dirt, but she speeds up, and Ben follows suit.

The next few seconds feel like forever, but the moment she’s under the banner and across the finish line, Ben scoops her up in his arms, her tired legs instinctively going around his hips.

Through the corner of her eye, she sees people quickly walking towards them, but her focus is on Ben - on his hand that’s under her thighs holding her in place, the other that’s found her cheek, cradling her face and wiping away her tears, his messy hair that’s curling around the sides of his face, the drops of sweat on his neck. “The reporters and the fans of yours will have a field day with this, you know,” she whispers, referring to the first public show of their relationship.

“Let them. This is our moment and we’ll celebrate any damn way we want.”

“You’re right,” she agrees, and closes the gap between them. They both smell awful and his lips are chapped and salty from sweat, like she’s sure hers are too, but Rey doesn’t care. She just kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until their friends and family wrap around them for a group hug.

Twenty-three men and seven women had already ran around the track and crossed the finish line by the time that Rey and Ben ran under the timing clock, minutes before 1am. They’re the last two runners to cross the finish line before the clock ticks over to the twenty hour mark.

Overall, they secure 31st and 32nd places, with Rey across the line faster by two seconds. She knows that’s just coincidence, but it won’t stop her from joking about beating him. For Ben, placing that far down is nothing to celebrate, but his finish wasn’t the point.

They make Rey’s goal - a women’s top ten finish. Eighth place. It means she’s got an automatic entry for 2019, she’ll get to come back next year, and they’ll both get silver belt buckles for finishing under twenty-four hours.

It means she did it, after years of trying and not getting selected, she’s here. At the end.

And she’ll be here next year too.

XxXxX

July 2018

Bellingham, Washington

When Ben gets home, there’s an official looking letter waiting for him amongst the rest of the junk mail he pulls from the mailbox.

_Blah, blah, blah, breach of contract…No longer sponsored by First Order as of July 1st…_

There’s some more legal bullshit about not talking to the media or falsely representing the company, but he stops reading, just folds the letter back along its creases and files it away in his office.

He’s done.

And, oh, if that doesn’t feel like Christmas in July, then he doesn’t know what does.

Sure, there’s probably some legal action he could take on his part, if he pulled out the original contract and waded through the pages upon pages of legalese, spent some time on the phone with his lawyer, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

There’s so much more to look forward to.

XxXxX

End of July 2018

Three weeks later and Rey’s on a plane, watching the red rocks of the southwest disappear behind her, itching to see all the places that Ben’s been telling her about. He swears they’ll spend time in Seattle, maybe during the week, when it’s not as crowded.

“We’ll do all the touristy things,” he promises, once they’ve gotten her bag and are finally in his car. “Pike’s Place, the gum wall… Shit, for you? We can even wait in line at the first Starbucks - though there’s much better coffee to be had in the city.”

“Fremont Troll too?” Rey asks him, with a mischievous grin. “I hear it’s the best makeout spot in the city.”

“I mean, if you really wanna makeout next to a weird statue under a bridge, I guess we can.”

As she’d predicted month prior, when they’d first come up with the pacer plan, Ben was dropped from First Order immediately after the race, surprising and upsetting neither of them. It didn’t matter, there was so much else going on that summer and in the next few upcoming months for them both. Hux’s YouTube video was a hit - they’d even just received the news that it was getting put on rotation for Trail Running Film Fest tour this fall. Sure, neither got as much attention as the winners, but everyone seemed to eat up their little love story, especially Ben using his Western States debut to help her to a top ten finish. Oh, and then there was the race report that Strava published dubbing them a “power couple.” Both of them had quite the laugh at that one. _Power couple? Who do they think we are? Posh and Becks?_ Leia and Han had seen some of that, right after the tabloids got wind that they were together. Leia had called after that story came out and assured Rey that the spotlight on her and Han’s relationship waned once the Olympics hype wound down, so Rey figured being in a much smaller sport that her time in the limelight would be even shorter.

“So, I’m sorry to have to do this, but I’ve got a conference call when we get back to my place.” In way of an apology, he reaches over to grab her hand, placing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“That’s fine, I’m capable of amusing myself for a while.” She laces their fingers together, setting their hands down on his thigh as they leave the metro Seattle behind and head north on I-5.

Two hours later, Ben pulls into the driveway of a house, a Craftsman bungalow painted in forest green with dark maroon accents. It’s not at all what she’d imagined, and despite all their conversations she kept seeing him as a downtown loft sort of guy, always in the thick of it, but when she sees the surroundings, it starts to make sense. It’s… calm, and seems quiet. His house is in an older neighborhood that backs up to a forested city park, and mature maples and oaks line the street. Everything about it seems cozy, and _right,_ and she hasn't even been inside yet. There's something about it - the city flag lazily flapping around in the light breeze, the porch swing on large front porch. The yard is well landscaped with a brick paver pathway, miniature weeping Japanese maple, and solar powered lights dotting the walkway between the garage and the porch.

She's going through an impressive array of takeout menus from his junk drawer, trying to find what sounds good for dinner when she hears him calling her name from the living room. “Rey? Can you come in here for a second?”

_That’s weird, his call can not be over that soon,_ Rey thinks, but she makes her way to his office anyways. “What’s up? Something wrong? I was just trying to figure out if we should get Chinese or Indian for dinner.”

“Nothing’s wrong, just --” He pauses to reach his hand up to hers, and pulls her over towards him. “I need you to pull up a chair and join this call.”

“Umm…,” she starts, her voice is confused. She hesitates a bit, but does as he asks, and picks up the chair in the corner so it doesn’t scrape the hardwood. “Okay? You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“I may have tricked you a bit. This isn’t technically for work.” She looks at the scene on his gigantic monitor. It’s an office building, that much is obvious, but the next thing she notices is that there’s a logo on the back wall, and it’s also on the tech material polos the two people on the screen are wearing. Oh, and Rey knows that logo. She knows it _very_ well.

“Ben? Is that the Hoka logo?” Watching them through the conference call are a young man and woman, dressed business casual and sitting at a conference table with a stack of paperwork off to the side.

“Perhaps we should explain,” the woman begins. The two introduce themselves, they’re Alex and Hannah, and they’re brand managers for Hoka. And they talk, and they keep talking, their words blurring together as understanding, and then disbelief, overtakes Rey.

Finally, she notices a pause in their explanation, and she has make sure she’s hearing them correctly.

“They…,” Rey starts, turning towards Ben. “They want to sponsor… me?”

“They want to sponsor _us,_ ” he corrects.

And then it begins to really feel like Ben was right, this _is_ the beginning, and all the little pieces start to fall into place.

XxXxX

June 29, 2019

Squaw Village, California

Rey stands in the pre-dawn dark, illuminated by spotlights and the headlamps of exactly 368 other runners, as the clock counts down to 5am.

It hadn’t taken long for her to realize that this whole long distance thing with Ben wasn’t going to suit her. It’d worked, sort of, before they’d admitted everything to each other, but combined with the everlasting parade of love emanating from Finn and Poe, the distance had become too much for her.

When she arrived home after almost two weeks in Washington with Ben, she’d made her decision in less than twenty-four hours. Rey had fallen in love with the town and the mountains and the trails, the small coffee shops and, yes, even the humidity. It hurt to tell her school district that she wouldn’t be returning in the fall, but truthfully they didn’t seem surprised, which lessened her guilt, at least somewhat.

So, after twenty eight years spent living within the same five square miles of Flagstaff, Rey packed her pick-up bed to the gills, ratchet-strapped down a blue tarp over everything, and set off for two full days of driving. For once, she had no plans and no job - the first time she’d been without at least a part-time job since early high school - and while it should’ve felt nauseatingly scary, as the scenery changed and she got closer and closer to her destination, she found herself increasingly excited about everything.

About spending the rest of the summer, and, _holy shit,_ the rest of the unforeseen future, with Ben.

About traveling to Europe over in September when he runs Mont-Blanc - the Hoka team had already contacted her again to make sure she went and could be at their booth.

About winters with snow and sitting by that fireplace in his living room, driving to Vancouver to see Hux and Phasma, and the ski trip Ben promised.

When a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders, she instantly jolts out of her daydreams. _Early morning dreams?_ she wonders, for just a split second, since the sun hasn’t come up yet. Rey looks down at the arms around her, a Garmin watch around the left wrist and a leather band around the right, engraved with a set of GPS coordinates she knows lead to a trailhead in the Grand Canyon.

_Ben._

“What’s wrong?” she asks as she turns to face him, still unable to keep from smiling when she sees him in his DIY crop top. _It’ll never not be hilarious._ She cranes her head up to see the start countdown clock. “We only have ninety seconds left.”

“Everything’s fine, I just --” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but leans down to kiss her. “I won’t see you for so long.”

“Hey now, I still plan on finishing in under twenty hours.” Ben looks like he’s going to try and explain that he didn’t mean it _that_ way, but she cuts him off with a quick kiss before he can. “Forty-five seconds to go. When I cross that finish line, I wanna hear all about your win.” She turns him around and gives him a playful smack on his ass before she pushes him towards the front of the pack.

He makes his way up front, and she watches him fiddle with his watch as the clock continues its countdown. He’s favored to win this year, coming off a series of wins in the fall and early spring.

Rey’s not favored to win, but then again, she’s not _not_ favored, so she figures at least she has that going for her. And a few other things - like her parents and Poe waiting for her at the aid stations, Finn ready to pace her when the time comes. If they’ll still have red freezer pops at that one aid station. _I’ll be damned if I’m taking shots of fucking pickle juice._

The crowd counts down the last few seconds in unison, and then she starts her watch, the buzzing and chiming from all the watches seems almost as loud as the cheers from the start line crowd.

And then, she’s off. She might not win, and that’s okay. She has friends to help her out and pace her along the way, gorgeous scenery, a gorgeous and hopefully winning man who’ll await her at the end, and hard-packed dirt trail under her feet. Nothing else necessary.


End file.
